Apparently the computational translator put words and tone into language the bull-necked Athenian could understand. He stopped short.
Catching the maid by the shoulder, Burke shoved her, stumbling, over to join her playmate.
Next, Ariadne, still standing frozen beside the far door:
"You, princess!" Burke clipped tightly. "Over here, on the double!"
The slim girl didn't move a muscle.
Burke snapped, "Come here, I said! Now! Do you hear me?"
Coldly, the great dark eyes took in Burke and his so-different garments. Then, in a voice edged with scorn, the princess asked, "And who are you, to command the daughter of Minos in her own chambers?"
Sweat slicked Burke's palms, his forehead. "That doesn't matter. It's enough that I hold the power of the thunderbolt in my hand here." He gestured with the Smith & Wesson.
"Indeed?" Now, coolly, Ariadne strolled in his direction. "Perhaps, then, you're a god; is that it?"
Burke groped. "Perhaps."