Once the milking was over, the man did seperate out Erick from the herd and moved her into a stall in a large barn. "This is where we keep some special cases. Cows ready to birth, sick, that kind of thing. You'll be safe here." He locked the door and dumped some food though a feed slot. "Go ahead and eat and drink. I've got work to do, but I'll come back this evening and try and give you more information. At least as much as I have."
Erick nodded and watched the man go. She didn't know yet if she could trust him, but she had little choice. It took a lot of willpower to get away from the bull. If the man wanted, all he had to do was toss her back into the pasture and he'd have another breeder.
Quietly, Erick ate for hours, feeling almost nauseated as she belched back up cud. The feeling passed quickly as the cows mind and instincts took over. Within hours, she was doing it like she'd been born like this.
The man returned as promised. "Okay, just to tell you. My name is Bill Kyle. I own this place, got it from my father. It was him that had some kind of deal with Spelstrom. I know little about it, other than that we have records of about a dozen cows over the last fifty years coming though. Most didn't seem to be able to remember their humanity, a couple did. I met one about ten years ago. A former woman, actually." He paused, "Did the machine tell you there was a time limit?"
Erick thought hard. She'd been so freaked out she'd barely heard the announcment, but she seemed to recall one year being mentioned. She nodded her bovine head and pounded a hoof once.
"One? One what, year?" asked Bill. When Erick nodded, he nodded himself. "Okay, we can work with that. The woman that came though had apparently been tagged for three years. She resisted the urge to be a cow in mind and body for a while, but not forever. She eventually allowed herself to be with the bull. After that, she wasn't the same. She popped out a couple calves before the three years were up." He shrugged, "Then she vanished for a few hours, then returned."
Erick shuddered, what did that mean?
As if he understood the question, the man replied, "I'm not completely sure. She was still nursing a calf at the time. I suspect she found herself back at the machine and was given the option to return. She'd been a cow for three years, and I knew she was more cow than human. In that weakened state, with a calf depending on her, she returned. Spend the rest of her life here, actually."
Erick shuddered again.
The man rubbed her nose gently, "Look, all isn't lost. I suspect if we keep you in here you'll be able to return to that machine and get out as a human again. The problem is keeping your sanity in the meantime." He sighed, "Cows are social animals. They aren't smart, but they like being around other cows. You're going to be alone in here other than milking time. Alone for months. I can't put a TV in here for you to pass the time because I'd have to explain that to my employees. I can't play a radio in here all the time because it'll distrub the other cows. You're going to be very lonely, very fast."
Erick already felt a strange ache, and Bills statement filled in the name for the need, companionship. He'd rarely felt this way as a human, most often he'd been happy to be alone for a while. But he wasn't human anymore.
"Erick," said the man, "It's risky. You could spend time out there with the cows, but the longer you do it, the more you'll act like them. I don't know that it won't happen in here, either. You have a choice to make. I suspect the answer depends on how strong you think you are, how much you can resist the urge to return to the herd after a year."