I walked into Jenkins Nanovic on Monday morning, blissfully unaware of the treacherous journey ahead of me. As I took my seat, I remembered an unanswered email from the preceding evening. With a few minutes before class was to begin, I withdrew my laptop from my backpack, planning to draft a short response.
I opened the computer and entered my password with a few clickety-clacks on the keyboard. Scanning my open tabs, I soon spotted what I was looking for in the top left corner. I dragged my cursor, hovered it over the Gmail tab, and clicked.
An image of the Golden Dome popped up, with a prompt to sign into my Okta account. “Shoot, didn’t I do this last night?” I asked myself. I entered my username casually, H – g – a – r – e – c – h – t.
Suddenly, my screen glowed bright red. The message “TWO-FACTOR AUTHENTICATION REQUIRED” flashed on and off across the display. “BEGIN AUTHENTICATION PROCEDURE.” Sigh. Here we go again.
Dejected, I walked up to Professor Deneen, who had just set down his bag. “Professor, I’m really sorry. I’ll have to leave class—I need to verify my Okta.” He sighed, grabbed my hand, and shook it somberly. “Good luck.”
On my way out of the building, I stopped and took a few sips out of the basement water fountain. I knew I would need to hydrate if I was to succeed on my mission. With my laptop tucked beneath my arm, I trudged through the snowy sidewalks to the Debartolo Hall. I found my way to the IT office in room 115, where I was greeted by a student worker. “Here to verify your Okta?” he asked. I nodded. “Follow me,” he replied.
The student stood up from the desk and led me through a long hallway and down a set of stairs. We climbed into an “ND OIT”-branded gondola and I was ferried down the river of lost souls that occupies DeBartolo’s basement. “This is as far as I can take you. You know what to do from here?” I nodded again. I was not afraid, for I had trod this path before.
I knocked on the door and heard a faint voice reply, “Come in.” The door was heavy, and creaked loudly as I opened it. I entered another dark and dingy chamber and stood before the OIT sphinx.
“You desire to verify your Okta?” she whispered. I nodded, and, in an effort to save time, pre-emptively gave him the answers to her 77 riddles. I offered her the baby goat I had in my backpack, and when she was finished with the sacrifice, she said, “The answers you seek lie on Duck Island.” Performing the usual ritual of gratitude so the sphinx didn’t maul me, I bowed and summoned the return-gondola.
Stepping into the cold once again, I ran towards St. Joseph’s lake. Shivering, I waded through the lake until I found what I was looking for: a roll of parchment, scarcely bigger than my thumb. I unrolled the scroll quickly—if I was efficient, maybe I could make it back to class before the lecture was over. In Arial font was written:
“Weary student, staff, or faculty member,
Your quest for two-factor authentication is nearly through.
Shortly, you will have what you need,
But there is one more that thing you must do.
Climb the highest building you can find,
Plant a flag for me when you reach the end.
Take your laptop to the highest peak,
And there, the code to you I shall send.”
I crumpled the paper and tossed it on the ground, groaning. “Last time was way faster,” I said to myself—my last verification I just had to poison a witch. I opened my laptop and did a quick Google search: “Tallest building on ND campus 2026.” To the Basilica I went.
I reached the entrance to the Basilica and glanced up at the impressive structure. Steeling myself against the frigid South Bend winds, I strapped my laptop to my back and began my ascent. The cold stone of the walls made my hands shake as freezing wind and snow continued to whip my face. After what felt like an eternity, I paused and looked down at the scene below—ah! My foot slipped off of the ledge. I caught myself and regained balance. Sadly, I realized I was only halfway to the top. Fr. Brian, cheerfully poking out of the belltower, asperge-ed me with holy water to fortify me.
As I reached the Basilica’s imposing spire, I heard a crowd forming beneath me. Students, professors, and even IT staff began cheering me on. “You can do it!” one girl shouted. “You’re so close! You’ll be able to sign into Canvas so soon!” another cried. With tears welling in my eyes, I said a Hail Mary and climbed to the very top of the Basilica’s steeple. I heard an eruption of cheers and applause as I reached into my bag and threw together a makeshift flag. Using the coat off my back, I cut out a square of fabric, wrote “OKTA” with the mud from my shoes, and fastened it to the steeple. The crowd shouted in support, and a single tear froze on my cheek. I could feel my phone buzz in my pocket with the authentication code.
Using my right arm to hug the steeple, I pulled my laptop out from my wartorn satchel. Balancing the computer on one knee, I opened the Okta login screen. I glanced at the clock on my laptop—dang, the climb had taken longer than I thought. I held my breath as I typed in the code. A spinning wheel appeared on my screen… loading, loading, loading…
“REQUEST TIMED OUT. PLEASE BEGIN TWO-FACTOR AUTHENTICATION AGAIN.”
Haley Garecht is a senior, although her creative writing skills are at a fourth grade level. For suggestions about better-written stories, please email hgarecht@nd.edu.