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CatsCast 27: Lost in Translation


Lost in Translation

by Y.M. Resnik

The first sign of trouble came from the panda enclosure. Speak Now Zoo’s headliner attraction spent most of her time munching bamboo and sleeping. Occasionally, she’d climb a tree. Never in Laura’s ten-year tenure as proprietress had Mindy, the Giant Panda, actually acknowledged the onlookers who paid to speak to her through the universal translation app.

So why was she now uttering string after string of gibberish?

Laura spent the better part of the morning checking the enclosure’s AV equipment before deciding that the translator was simply on the fritz. Mindy was chowing down, oblivious as always, while curious onlookers scratched their heads as the interactive translation display belted out random words. Some sad tourists were even trying to communicate using numerous languages, as if the translator did not boil all human speech down to the same set of Panda communication algorithms for Mindy to be able to process it. Should she ever deign to do so.

No, clearly the problem was not Mindy’s ability to process English or any other language. The translator wasn’t processing anything. Certainly not Panda, but maybe not human languages either.

Laura sighed and disconnected the entire apparatus, explaining to the disappointed crowd that Mindy would not be able to converse with them today. There was some disgruntled whispering, even some audible booing and demands for refunds, but there was nothing else to be done until repairs could be arranged.

Chuck would have said she was being silly. That she should disconnect Mindy’s audio but still allow visitors to pay to talk to her. It’s not like Mindy ever answered anyway, and the zoo desperately needed the cash, but Laura couldn’t bring herself to do it. So what if the visitors didn’t know? Laura would, and she couldn’t live with herself if she turned wildlife      ambassadors like Mindy into lies.

Chuck had also suggested she get rid of the translator altogether and replace it with an AI that parsed the visitors’ conversations and responded to them with pleasing phrases and cute tidbits about Pandas, all in Mindy’s voice. He said that Mindy would never attract enough cash flow on her own, and the AI version of Mindy would be a hit on Instagram, just so long as nobody ever found out it wasn’t the actual Panda talking to them. That was when they were first dating, and Laura had refused to let him visit the zoo for an entire month afterwards.

Which is why she and Chuck had strict parameters about their relationship. He could pay for dinner but was forbidden from investing in the zoo and frankly, he was also actively encouraged to keep his mouth shut on the entire topic of “maximizing the zoo’s assets.” Laura didn’t want his fancy MBA corporate nonsense affecting the animals. Although the cash influx would be nice.

Back at her on-site office, nestled between the Birds of Prey exhibit and the Big Cats habitat, Laura threw Mindy’s translator onto her desk. It joined a growing pile of items in need of repair that she hadn’t found the funds to pay for yet. Some security padlocks, an automated feeder, and Chuck’s stupid drone which he had been flying illegally over the property in what he claimed was a Valentine’s Day gesture but Laura strongly suspected was simply a bet with some other dude at the office to see if he could outfly a hawk. Spoiler alert: not much flying had been done. The hawk had clawed the thing into a mangled mess, and Laura couldn’t bring herself to be sorry about it.

She turned away from the depressing electronics and sank into her chair. Her cat, Artemis, hopped onto her lap. The universal translator on her collar jingled like a wind chime.

Tough day? Artemis had insisted on having a British accent, and the voice of a midlife female.

“Indeed.” Laura didn’t go into specifics. Artemis had a beautiful grey coat, purred like a champion, and was great at catching mice, but she was her own creature. She mostly used her universal translator to demand an upgraded cat tree, deny she stole Chuck’s car keys, and purchase Bulgari perfume and other luxury items from unsuspecting sales reps online.

At least the customer service reps were more forgiving than Chuck and his drone. Or perhaps they were just too embarrassed. They almost always wrote off the charges and half the time didn’t even demand she return the products. Which only encouraged Artemis more.

The crackle of Laura’s walkie talkie precluded any further conversation.

“Laura? We’ve got an issue by the monkey enclosure.” Laura recognized the panicked voice of her summer intern Juan. “The monkeys…uhm…they keep throwing feces.”

Laura grimaced. This was definitely an issue, but also not unheard of. The monkeys knew that flinging bodily waste was a surefire way to get attention. They did usually respond well to negotiation once somebody figured out what they wanted, but Juan was out of his depth and likely to get extorted in a serious way if Laura didn’t step in. She’d hired him for his kind heart and love of animals, not his mediation skills.

She apologized to Artemis for cutting their lunch hour short, promised to watch Animal Planet with her when Chuck wasn’t there to complain, and set out for the monkey enclosure.

When she arrived, the area was empty except for Juan and the monkeys. Nothing shocking, and probably for the best.  Flying feces were a real crowd thinner. Plus, they tended to attract complaints and lawsuits.

Tonto, the self-appointed leader of the enclosure, explained that some dude in a Grateful Dead t-shirt kept calling them rabbits. They had explained that they were in fact not rabbits, not even close relatives of rabbits, but the guy had refused to stop. So they had resorted to throwing feces to prove their point. Because when had a rabbit ever thrown feces? They didn’t even have opposable thumbs.

Really Laura, it’s not our fault. Tonto somehow managed to convey self-indignation through the translator. Unlike Mindy, he used his app regularly. We were provoked.

Laura glanced at Juan for confirmation. The zoo had a zero-tolerance policy on heckling, which included both patrons and the animals. Nobody was allowed to intentionally provoke or challenge outside of their own species. Half the reason Laura had purchased Artemis a translator was so that she could confirm Artemis was taunting the lions and forbid her from challenging them to a best-groomed mane competition.

Juan threw up his hands and swore that no such thing had occurred. He even showed her video footage to prove it. There was a man in a Grateful Dead t-shirt, and he had been using      the translator, but his conversation revolved entirely around his desire to know if the monkeys had ever listened to classic rock and whether they had thoughts on the best artist of the 90s. Not exactly the stuff the monkeys preferred to discuss; they loved superhero flicks but were fairly apathetic to human musical genres, but certainly nothing worth throwing feces over.

On a normal day, Laura might have blamed Tonto. He was certainly not above making false accusations to raise his status in the enclosure. But the other monkeys were backing him up instead of angling to use the incident to dethrone him. Plus, there was the weird incident with Mindy. Something was obviously up.

She detached the monkey enclosure translator and set about a full-scale investigation of the zoo. What she found was nothing short of disaster.

The penguins were attacking their handlers, the zebras were exclusively speaking Dutch, and the leopards were trying to convince a group of kindergarteners that they could beat them at freeze tag. It was enough to make Laura suspect someone was playing an elaborate prank to bankrupt the zoo.

The entire reason people came and paid the entrance fee for Speak Now was for the chance to talk to rescued and endangered animals. Without the translator usage fees as a supplement, the zoo would burn through its operating budget in a week. And there was no way Laura could afford to replace the malfunctioning devices. They weren’t even still under warranty.

Maybe she should have listened to her parents and gone into healthcare or studied zoology. Or at least taken Chuck up on his offer for a job at his office. Although  that may not have been serious. The words “sexy secretary” had been used.

She radioed over to Juan to start evacuation procedures while she checked the remaining enclosures. Her last stop was the lions, who were prancing around, begging passers-by to loan them a mirror. Something about the way the male kept fluffing out his mane was suspicious. Laura moved closer, only to spot the evidence right there on the floor—paw prints and a whiff of overpriced, designer perfume.

Artemis was here. Nobody else wore Bulgari to a zoo.

Laura raced back to the office, only to find her cat sitting primly on the porch, Mindy’s universal translator in her delicate paw.

I can fix it. Her amber eyes gave nothing away. I can fix them all. For a price.

Laura’s eyes narrowed. Artemis was picky about her food, and a petty thief of men’s watches, but she’d never been an extortionist. She was mischievous, secretive, maybe even a little paranoid, but she was not evil. So why had she resorted to such measures? Had communication between them really broken down to the point where Artemis felt the need to sabotage the entire zoo just to get Laura’s attention?

“Fine,” she said. “I will buy you that new cat tree. But then you and I are having a serious talk.”

Artemis leaped into her arms, purring for all she was worth. I don’t want the cat tree. I want you to dump Chuck. That dude is the worst. You can do way better. You deserve way better.

Laura blinked as a warmth that had nothing to do with the bundle of fur in her arms spread through her entire body. She’d had her doubts about Chuck for a while. It wasn’t so much a relationship as a friends-with-benefits situation, except they were not even friends and lately the benefits had felt more in Chuck’s favor than hers. Still, it got lonely out there and those dating apps were horrible. She hadn’t wanted to be single again.

The ball of fluff in her arms reminded her that she was not alone, even if she did dump Chuck. She had Artemis and an entire zoo full of animals who felt so strongly about the issue they staged a low-key uprising to get their point across. What was one finance bro who couldn’t even be bothered to watch Animal Planet with his zoologist girlfriend compared to all of that?

“You’re right,” Laura said. “I’ll tell him tonight at dinner.”

Artemis swished her tail. “You know he’d just send a text, right?”

Laura cringed. Breaking up with someone over text was exactly the type of thing Chuck would do. If he even bothered to break up with them at all instead of simply cheating behind their back.

“True, but I thought we just established that I am the better person. I promise I’ll do it, but you have to promise me that next time you’ll just talk to me, OK? Not set the entire zoo on fire.”

Artemis stiffened. I tried. And when that didn’t work I tried convincing him to go.

“That’s why you keep stealing his car keys?” Laura squelched a laugh. It gave a new meaning to all those times Chuck insisted Artemis was out to get him and Laura insisted she was just being a cat.

Artemis nodded. Well, that and I promised the monkeys a joy ride for their cooperation with this plan.

Laura laughed. “Tell Tonto the joy ride is off. But I promise to listen more. To all of you. Hopefully that’ll do.”

Artemis purred, and this time, Laura didn’t need a translator to understand.

Host Commentary

And we’re back!

That was Lost in Translation by Y.M. Resnik. If you liked this story, you can also check out Y.M. Resnik’s novel The Elysium Heist.

This story is about a diverse community of zoo animals coming together to oust a greedy power-hungry narcissist – and for some reason, that’s a story that really resonates right now. And since this is CatsCast, it doesn’t hurt that the cat is the mastermind who came up with the creative solution.

Come chat with us! If you’re a Patreon patron, you can join the Escape Artists Discord server automatically through Patreon. Or you can find us on Bluesky as @catscast.org.

We’ll be back next month, but in the meantime, you can find more narrative goodness on our weekly sister podcasts: Escape Pod for science fiction, PodCastle for fantasy, PseudoPod for horror, and Cast of Wonders for YA.

Today’s episode is brought to you by audio producers Wilson Fowlie and Dave Robison, assistant editor Tarver Nova, and me, Laura Pearlman.

Our opening and closing music is Easy Lemon by Kevin MacLeod.

CatsCast is a production of the Escape Artists Foundation, a US 501(c)(3) non-profit. This episode is distributed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial No Derivatives 4.0 International license, which means you can’t change it or sell it, but you can share it as much as you like.

If you’ve been listening to any Escape Artists podcast recently, you may have noticed brief ads at the beginning or end of each episode. If you’re a Patreon subscriber at the seven-dollar level or above, you can get access to ad-free versions of all Escape Artists podcasts – and also CatsCast episodes a week early.

Thanks for listening, and until next time, we wish you all the purrs.

 

CatsCast 26: The Gingerbread House


The Gingerbread House

by Jenny Hart

The air has only just begun to smell of autumn as I head for Gingerbread Cottage, where I am to house sit two cats for the winter. I have packed warm clothes and antihistamines, and the emailed instructions are both simple and strange. Feed the cats and clean up after them and yourself. But don’t let them out, no matter how much they ask.

Read the rest on Patreon.

CatsCast 25: The Invention of a Cat


The Invention of a Cat

by Carolina Valentine

The haunting had started at 2 a.m., and my local Joann didn’t open until nine. I was in the parking lot at 8:30, and while several Joann employees passed by my car on the way to the doors, I kept scrolling on my phone, feigning disinterest, instead of begging to be let in early. Even after the night I’d had, I wasn’t going to be That Customer.

I focused my bloodshot eyes on the featured article in the Journal of Theoretical Witchcraft—something about the potency of blood moon spells—and checked once or twice on the spectral wound I’d slathered in dubious Taint-Be-Gone and expired Neosporin. Despite the mustiness of the gauze wrapping I’d found for it, the four claw-like marks probably wouldn’t fester.

In theory. Which is what I did. Theory.

Read the rest on Patreon.

CatsCast 24: Queen of the Mouse Riders


Queen of the Mouse Riders

by Annie Reed

Gurgling yowls echoed off the tiled floor in Sarah’s bathroom. Bounced off the ceiling, gaining strength, and intruded on what was turning out to be a very, very nice dream featuring the star of a movie she’d watched just before bed.

In the dream, the star turned his incredibly expressive eyes in Sarah’s direction, smiled his best enigmatic smile, and said, “Pardon me, darling, but is that your cat?”

(In the dream he’d turned British. She happened to know he’d been born and raised in the Bronx. Dreams were just plain weird sometimes.)

“Yes,” she said. “She’s apparently caught a mouse.”

Starlight the Cat had a battle cry like a two-note yodeler gargling mouthwash. She reserved that particular cry for whenever she caught a mouse. Or something that looked like a mouse. Or a mouse-shaped stuffed toy.

Most of the time she’d only caught one of her toys. Thank goodness. But on at least on memorable occasion she’d interrupted a visit from Sarah’s mother by presenting a live mouse as the third course for their lunch date.

Sarah’s mother was deathly afraid of mice.

Read the rest on Patreon.

CatsCast 23 Preview: The Best Way to Procure Breakfast


This month’s CatsCast episode is The Best Way to Procure Breakfast by Dana Vickerson. It’s available on the Escape Artists Premium Content feed on Patreon for patrons at the Premium Content level or above; it’s also in our premium content repository for those who donate five dollars a month by any means. We’ll be back here in the free feed next month. In the meantime, here’s a sample of what’s playing over on Patreon.

This story [originally appeared in Zooscape.

A content note: this story deals with themes of grief and loss.

The Best Way to Procure Breakfast

by Dana Vickerson.

If Mama doesn’t get up soon, we’re going to miss our chance to get off Mars.

Mama is a human, but I call her “Mama” because she says I am her baby kitty and her special boy. She is sleeping, but I am hungry.

It’s a delicate art, waking up your human. If you’re too eager, they’ll likely get cross with you, and while Mama is a sweet and kind soul, I do not like to see her cross. If you are too gentle, though, your human is likely to continue their blissful sleep while you sit on the floor with a rumble in your belly.

So, like most mornings, I start today by walking back and forth across my human’s pillow. This is less startling than just going right for patting her face. The soft rhythm of my paws around her head signals to Mama that it’s time to start the process of bringing her consciousness to the here and now, where my kibble lives.

Read (or listen to) the rest on Patreon.

A painting of a brown taby cat

CatsCast 22: Blood Water


Blood Water
by J.A. Bryson

The blood on Zip’s hands is dried the color of rust and sticks like clay under her fingernails. Mostly, it isn’t hers. Mostly, it belongs to the man she shivved, the one who mistook her for an easy mark. Zip is gray-eyed and hunger-slight. She’s a lot of things – fast, fierce, speechless since birth – but she isn’t easy. The old timers know this. The man waiting at the pits to grab her while she took a piss, he did not know this.

He’s a newcomer. His people came when jets rained fire on their homeland. They have no code. They left their children and their old timers to burn.

Their language is violence. One needn’t words to speak it.

Outside camp, Zip finds shade in a stand of scraggly pines with peeling bark and sun-bleached needles. She drags her palms over the parched earth. The blood remains. It doesn’t flake or rub away. She thinks to spit on it, to make a paste, to paint its warning on her sunken cheeks, but her tongue is swollen with thirst. She hasn’t spit to spare.

If it doesn’t rain soon, her band will strike up camp. Better to move than to choke on dust – to become dust. She closes her eyes and swallows. Her heart beats too fast.

The man she shivved will die. Serves him right for making her sweat.

Propped against a tree, Zip drifts. She doesn’t hear Cat come. She wakes to his rough tongue grazing her knuckles. Groggily, she peeps an eye. The sun is not where she remembers it.

Read the rest on Patreon.

CatsCast 21 Preview: Kindly, Stop for Me


Kindly, Stop for Me

by K.M. Veohongs

I rise from my spot by the window in Room 126 of the Sunny Glades Home for Health and Rehabilitation. The sun set an hour ago, so it’s no great loss. My front paws extend, claws out, before I shift my weight forward and kick out each hind leg. I don’t have the range of motion I once did — everything creaks and clicks now — but since the moment I selected my first feline host, I found there is nothing quite so satisfying as a good stretch.

I jump down and land on the tiled floor, hard. I wish they’d carpet the rooms, but that’s hardly sanitary, is it? The hop up onto the bed is more difficult still. We’re in the hospice wing, of course, and these beds are tall. I’ve still got the ups to make it, but it’s a near thing.

Finding a replacement body should be on the top of my to-do list. This one is rather past its natural expiration date, and if I don’t find a new host before it gives out completely, I’ll be as rudderless as the souls I’m supposed to help. It’s only that I’m rather attached to the form I’m currently inhabiting. I’ve been Archimedes for so long now, I’m not sure I remember how to be anyone else.

Read (or listen to) the rest on Patreon.

An orange tabby cat

CatsCast 20: Re-Release: The Cat


This month we’re re-running The Cat by Nicole Walsh, which ran on our patron-only feed in July, 2022.

The Cat

by Nicole Walsh

The cat followed him home.

Tomas Shine spent three and a half minutes in the stairwell hyperventilating. He heard Mrs Helen Acres, the widow from Unit Two, clatter and batter her way out her door, shopping bags in hand. She spotted the cat outside the stairway and reversed soundlessly into her unit.

Tomas sucked in a ragged breath, filling his lungs to the brim, and looked up. The cat waited on the far side of the glass door. Its tail lashed back and forth. Tomas used the rail to heave himself upright, then crept down the stairs. He opened the door. The cat stood, butt shooting into the air, tail upright like a comma. It mewed.

Tomas stepped aside.

The cat led the way up the stairs. Tomas walked slowly, careful not to step on it. His hand was shaking so badly he couldn’t get the key into the lock. His work bag slid awkwardly down his arm. Sweat pooled at his armpits, licking wet trails past his ribs.

The cat pressed into his leg. A small, frightened noise slipped from his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m trying.”

Nervous sweat coated his fingertips. The keys slipped free. They landed on the tiled floor with a loud clang, startling the cat. Tomas pressed into the wall, hand raised defensively.

“Sorry!”

The cat stared, tail low and flicking. Tomas crouched slowly, extending a shaking hand for the keys. For a sickening moment he was almost eye to eye with the creature. Tomas rose. He slowly and deliberately inserted the correct key into the lock and opened his door.

A small white shape flittered past his brown work shoes.

It was done.

Tomas Shine had a cat.

Read or listen to the rest on Patreon

CatsCast 19 Preview: Short Tales: Memories


This month’s CatsCast has two flash stories: The Tan One by Nathan Susnik and Alligators by Monica Joyce Evans. It’s available on the Escape Artists Premium Content feed on Patreon for patrons at the Premium Content level or above; it’s also in our premium content repository for those who donate five dollars a month by any means. We’ll be back here in the free feed next month. In the meantime, here’s a sample of what’s playing over on Patreon.

The Tan One

by Nathan Susnik

Some days I pick the white pill. Other days it’s the black. For some reason or another, I prefer the brown pill on Tuesdays. Today, feels like it’s going to be one of my bad days. So, I pinch the tan pill between my thumb and index finger, flick it into my mouth and take a slug of water. It catches halfway down, but when I swallow again, it dislodges quickly enough. As it hits my stomach, I’m already more optimistic. My cat rubs against my leg.

“Oh, hello Lionel,” I say. Abyssinians have ticked fur. It looks like one color from afar, but if examined closely, it’s actually bands of light and dark shades. I bend down, leaning hard on my cane (it’s really more of a modern crutch) and stroke him. Pain shoots out of my lower back, wrapping around my hip. But I clench my jaw, ignoring it, running my hand over the cat’s back. He purrs, and perhaps today won’t be so bad after all.

Read (or listen to) both stories over on Patreon.

An orange tabby cat in a window, illuminated by the yellow-orange glow of the light outside.

CatsCast 18: Match.Cat


This story is a CatsCast original.

Match.Cat

by Ember Randall

They say cats have nine lives, but that’s not quite right. Nine is more of an average–in reality, you get as many as Death gives you, which means it behooves any sensible cat to suck up while they can.

Or, at least, that’s what I told myself as I wound around Death’s legs, giving them my best never-been-petted meow–the unmatched quality of their ear scritches had nothing to do with it.

A snort echoed above me. “You look like one of those spoiled lap cats you’re always deriding, you know.”

I glared up at Alfonsius–Lord Alfonsius Darrowfell of the Silent Wing, to give the owl the full title he often insisted on. “Insurance is never wasted.” I was on my seventh life, and a cat couldn’t be too careful, right?

Read the rest on Patreon.