El Dorado, And Related Cities

Chapter V-VIII

V: El Dogrado

No one had quite understood Yaguarete when he said that the GLR's were “above all clever,” but they would find out as soon as they met the sentinel.

How did they know he was a sentinel? Elementary. A dog was standing on his hind legs in front of a massive stone door covered in carvings of other dogs frolicking. He was armed with a spear and wearing a feathered helmut (a hel-mutt?).

“Are you the sentinel guarding El Dogrado?” asked Goncalo.

“No,” said the dog.

“Oh. Are you...a warrior?”

“That I am not.”

“Gatekeeper?”

“I wouldn't say so.”

“Ack, well, I give up.”

“Oh, go on, sir. I'm sure someone like you could make an educated guest.”

“Um, okay then,” Goncalo cracked his knuckles uncomfortably. “Are you a hunter?”

“Wonderful guess, sir. In fact, I do love to go hunting on the weekends. But no.”

“Politician?”

“Good lord no,” he laughed, “you're so funny.”

“Francisco?” Goncalo appealed for help.

(“No, I'm not Francisco,” the dog almost said, but restrained himself when he realized the nature of the question).

“Are you a roofer?”

Goncalo replied immediately, saying, “Now don't be stupid, Francisco, why in God's name would he be a roofer. He's standing stock still outside a gate with a SPEAR.” After an uncomfortable silence, “Um, are you a roofer?”

“Yes.”

Goncalo spun around so fast his neck almost snapped. “Francisco! How on earth did you know that.”

Francisco chuckled and gave Goncalo a pitying look. “Goncalo, he's a dog. Of course he's a roofer.”1

“That's not funny.”

“No,” said the dog, “why should it be?”

“In any case,” said Goncalo, “Do you think you could let us in to El Dogrado?”

“You have only answered one of my three questions. Once you successfully answer the other two, then yes, I would be delighted to let you in.”

“Okay,” sighed Goncalo. “Let's hear them.”

“A train leaves Birmingham at 4:58 PM, traveling fifteen degrees Southwest at forty-five miles per hour. A car leaves Manchester at 3:31 AM, traveling eight degrees North at sixty-two kilometers per hour. However, due to a bizarre mix-up the train accidentally crosses the international dateline, and the car hasn't had its clock changed since Spring Forward. At approximately 6:20 PM, the car and train meet at Bristol. From the train-car system, how much mass is converted to energy in the collision?

Francisco's eyes lit up, but Goncalo stood slack-jawed and blank eyed.

“How could anybody answer that! Uh... I don't know. None?”

“No,” said the dog.

“I think I have it,” said Francisco.

“Go ahead.”

“Three.”

“Three what? Kilograms? Pounds? Grams?” asked Goncalo.

“No,” answered Francisco serenely. “Just...three.”