Boldly Going Part 27
With the launch of Minerva 3 in 2001, NASA had established the first of a new generation of human outposts beyond Earth orbit. However, it wasn’t the only new outpost launched that year. After many delays, Russia finally launched the first modules of
Mir-II. Funded by contributions from Europe and a number of private tourists, Russia spent the next two years launching and assembling their third generation modular space station in a 52 degree inclination orbit shared with the existing and still intermittently occupied
Mir-I. Assembly began with the DOS-8
Zvezda station core module, then the
Spektr lab module. As soon as the first modules of the new station were launched, it became home not only to ESA astronauts and spationauts, but also to a stream of private tourists whose dollars helped pay the bills of the cash-strapped Russian program. The first resident in the temporary tourist crew quarters in
Spektr was internet dot-com billionaire Paul Allen. He had been debating founding his own space launch company for tourist purposes and justified his flight experience as a “fact finding” expedition (for which he was able to take a tax write-off). In 2002, the Europeans launched their
Curie laboratory to become the third module of the station. The same small size which made
Mir-II less capable than
Enterprise in both lab volume and power supply ironically also produced a purer microgravity environment. Though still intermittently disturbed by the motion of tourists and crew aboard, for a time
Curie was the preferred site for housing experiments which depended on high-quality microgravity, such as pharmaceuticals and crystal growth. Until the launch of the first Russian power module in 2003,
Curie’s 15 kW solar panels would also provide half of the power generated aboard
Mir-II, exceeding the capacity of the smaller arrays aboard
Zvezda and
Spektr.
Beyond being the primary home for microgravity experiments and its contributions to the power grid of
Mir-II,
Curie was also the debut of a new generation of European multi-purpose spacecraft. The base design, named the Multi-Purpose Space Vehicle, came from coupling an MPLM-derived pressure hull to a service module developed from the Kepler-L lunar crew vehicle.In
Curie’s case, modifications were made to the basic MPSV hull to add additional solar panel capacity, uprate her thrusters for on-orbit refueling and longer use, and increase the rated lifespan of her micrometeor and orbital debris protection by providing an outer layer of metal shielding. By removing these modifications, the same basic MPSV design became the “Automated Transfer Vehicle,” a 20-ton logistics carrier for launch aboard Ariane 5. With the benefits of this large additional logistics stream for both
Mir-II and (more regularly)
Space Station Enterprise, the new ATV would pay the way for a stream of European astronauts to both outposts. With this, ESA continued to be the only agency to maintain a continuous presence on more than one space station. A final derivative of the MPSV bus would stretch this claim further. In 2005, ESA launched their
Galileo space platform.
Galileo was the full embodiment of the concept of a “Man-Tended Free-Flyer” which had originally spawned the ATV type and the
Columbus and
Curie lab modules aboard
Enterprise and
Mir-II. By European reckoning,
Galileo was both a tug
and a space station. Modifications to the MPSV bus for
Galileo would consist of the same long-life modifications from
Curie, but with only the reduced solar power of the ATV. The performance of
Galileo was further increased by adding additional propellant tanks inside the pressurized cabin, taking advantage of the non-toxic propellants selected for the MPSV design. Much like
Curie,
Galileo featured a second docking port located between the four OMS engines, connected by a short pressurized tunnel to the habitable module. By mounting an APAS port on the main pressurized module at its other end,
Galileo was thus capable of both docking independently to APAS ports, or being berthed by robotic arm to a station’s CBM port to transfer the larger ISPRs it was fitted to carry.
Galileo’s first major mission began with its launch in August 2005 aboard an Ariane 5 rocket. Rather than flying to the 52 degree orbit of
Mir-II or the 39-degree orbit of
Enterprise,
Galileo started its career in a 28.5 degree orbit. With its propellant tanks full to overflowing,
Galileo began the burns to chase down its first customer: the Hubble Space Telescope. Conducting servicing operations at an orbit distinct from that of
Enterprise had been a problem for decades, and the Americans had been heavily interested in solving the problem by relocating the telescope to a more convenient orbit. Unfortunately, Congressional leadership had repeatedly declined to fund the expense of an American Orbital Transfer Vehicle (OTV) or Orbital Maneuvering Vehicle (OMV) which might only be used once. With autonomous docking ability and massive propellant tanks,
Galileo was the perfect pinch-hitter for the role of a reusable orbital tug. After three days spent chasing down the telescope,
Galileo gently docked to the port left behind four years earlier by STS-125.
Over the next several weeks, a series of gentle burns eased the telescope’s inclination higher and higher. Even with the augmented propellant tanks,
Galileo wasn’t up to the task of moving the combined 30-ton stack to a 39-degree orbit coplanar with
Enterprise in a single operation. Instead,
Galileo burnt off just over 5 metric tons of the ethanol-LOX propellants, adjusting Hubble’s orbit by 4.5 degrees. Leaving it at the new 33 degree orbit,
Galileo continued on to
Enterprise using the more than three tons remaining in its tanks. Arriving in September 2005,
Galileo docked and was refueled with supplies sent up on the Space Shuttle and ATV. With its internal tanks topped off,
Galileo burnt its way back to Hubble and powered it through another 3.5 degrees of inclination adjustment. The reduced capability, in spite of the increased propellant load, came from the need to not just boost down to Hubble, but also to retain propellant to come
back to
Enterprise for the final refueling which would bring Hubble to an orbit coplanar with the station. The complex operations interrupted Hubble’s observing time off and on through the rest of 2005, but by 2006 the telescope had been inserted into its new 545 kilometer 39 degree orbit.
With this first mission complete,
Galileo was berthed to the station rather than docked, and began to receive an overhaul to suit its new role not as just a tug, but as a free-flying scientific platform which could
also serve as a tug. This new mission would not require the large propellant tanks needed for the
Hubble move, and the tanks could be reused for other purposes. The LOX capacity was repurposed to store additional oxygen and nitrogen to sustain a breathable atmosphere during independent operations. The ethanol tanks were drained, purged, and eventually refilled with water for both cooling and bioscience research. As a result of the slow “boiloff” of residual stored ethanol from the remaining supplies stockpiled aboard the station, the crew of
Enterprise enjoyed a very happy year of holidays throughout 2006. While the tanks were being repurposed,
Enterprise crew installed experiments into ISPR racks that had been left empty on
Galileo’s launch. These experiments, specifically launched via shuttle and MPLM to
Enterprise for installation on
]Galileo, would take advantage of the independent nature of the platform. Smaller and free from crew-induced vibrations,
Galileo would offer a dramatically superior environment for long-duration microgravity than
Enterprise or even its cousin, the
Curie laboratory aboard
Mir-II. Additionally, experiments aboard
Galileo would be free of the safety concerns that precluded open combustion experiments from being conducted on other stations. After the conversion,
Galileo was refueled for station-keeping and cast loose from
Enterprise again to take up its own co-orbital position a few dozen kilometers behind the larger station. By European reckoning,
Galileo’s largely independent operations made them the third agency to operate their own space station. However, NASA and many American news sources typically regarded
Galileo as an adjunct to the American outpost, as integral to its operational tempos and capabilities as Space Shuttle launches, Hubble servicing, or Kepler lifeboat rotations.
By 2009,
Space Station Enterprise was at the center of a network of off-Earth outposts. In addition to playing host to a normal crew of 8, which surged as high as 18 during Space Shuttle and European Kepler crew visits,
Enterprise also was the logistics base for
Galileo which typically orbited within a few dozen kilometers. The Hubble Space Telescope was left in its orbit coplanar with but roughly 50 kilometers above the station, within easy access but far enough away to avoid conflicts with station operations or impacts by station-generated debris.
Galileo made roughly annual visits to the main station for upkeep and maintenance, and was also assigned to bring Hubble to
Enterprise roughly every 2-3 years for maintenance and reboost. On the moon, the Americans had constructed “cabin-in-the-woods” outposts at the landing sites of Minerva 2 at Oceanus Procellarum, the Minerva 3 mission on the lunar farside at Tsiolkovsky Crater, and the Minerva 4 outpost at Shackleton Crater near the lunar South Pole. The latter had been expanded with an additional pair of LSAMs and an arched, regolith-covered roof, to form “Shackleton Base.” There, drawing on the station’s 8 Habitanks and two Minerva Core Modules, crews were able to stay up to nine months to conduct increasingly detailed examinations of much of the lunar south pole region. The base had begun accumulating the detritus every long-duration human outpost seemed to eventually develop. The base’s galley still featured a cardboard standup of Quark, signed by Armin Shimerman, which the Minerva 4 crew had left behind in the airlock to greet the arrival of Minerva 5’s crew to “Deep Space One,” More noticeably the base also possessed an increasingly large pool of un-converted “surplus” LSAMs which grew by one for every additional crew that visited the base.
As for the rest of human spaceflight,
Mir-II had been recently completed, though the station still had echoes of its Soviet roots. Moreover, the constant supply of millionaire and billionaire tourists often gave it a reputation as the tabloid center of spaceflight. The flight of billionaire Charles Simmons and his fiancée Lisa Pérez in 2009 didn’t help matters. The pair were engaged before their flight, and once on orbit revealed their intention to be married in space. They presented a marriage license from the State of California, and asked the station’s rather amused Russian commander to perform the official ceremony. By exercise of the ancient privilege of vessel commanders, he pronounced them husband and wife. The two then proceeded to spend much of their time in the supplementary tourist quarters located in the pressurized module at the root of the station’s portside solar truss. Within weeks, the module (home to two supplemental crew quarters and an additional hygiene station) had shed its original inevitable nickname of the “Orbital Hilton” and been equally inevitably renamed the “Honeymoon Suite.”
Tabloid interest was immediate in the orbital marriage ceremony, and how any ensuing consummation might have been achieved. Other media fanned the flames, if more tastefully. On their return, the newly married couple helped recoup some of the $120 million cost of the 3-month “honeymoon of a lifetime” by publishing a book, which went on to be a New York Times best seller. Largely a boilerplate romance of a dot-com billionaire and a mere dot-com millionaire falling in love over a joint interest in spaceflight, the book’s marketing push teased that it made references to the mechanics of sex in space, a matter of interest to gossip hounds but which the stodgy NASA Public Affairs Office considered verboten. The couple’s time in space was confined to a few chapters near the end, before a discussion of their relationship since their return home, but contained just enough prurient details to titillate the audience turning up for them. However, perhaps the book's most famous line was an assertion that the experience combined with the so-called “overlook effect” of seeing the Earth from space “left them feeling like they were experiencing something no one had ever felt before--a connection that transcended bodies and borders to create a bond to last a lifetime.”
Originally, the book’s marketing had carried the pitch that it was the story of the first married couple to fly in space. In a rare breach of silence about the entire topic however, NASA’s Public Affairs team had pointed out this wasn’t true when the book was submitted to them for comment early in publication. Though the Simmons were the first to be married in space, they were not the first
married couple in space. Following a whirlwind romance during training, NASA astronauts Mark Lee and Jan Davis had flown together on STS-47 in 1992. By the time the pair’s romance had come out, the agency had been unable to arrange to replace one or both in time to avoid disrupting the mission of carrying a Spacelab module full of Japanese experiments to
Space Station Enterprise. The matter had raised eyebrows inside the agency at the time, but now the Simmons’ honeymoon getaway brought the matter back to the forefront. Officially, NASA refused to answer any questions about any activities the two newlyweds had gotten up to in space in the early days of
Space Station Enterprise, before permanent crew were aboard. Presumably then, the pair had been too busy, too professional, or too closely chaperoned by the rest of the crew for anything to result. With the Simmons honeymoon, the matter came back to intense public attention nearly two decades after it had occurred. Divorced since 1999, Davis and Lee were both reluctant to comment on the events of a marriage now a decade in the past or risk the wrath of the NASA PAOs. The closest thing to a public answer came when Jan Davis visited Texas A&M for a speaking arrangement and small-group meetings with aerospace engineering students. According to posts later circulated on the internet, one of the young women in a small-group arranged by the campus Society for Women Engineers had dared ask the question which NASA preferred to never have addressed. Asked if she had found any experience of orbital flight and related activities to yield something like Simmons’ famous line about a “connection to last eternity,” Davis had simply said “I can’t say I’ve ever experienced that myself.”
Some within space advocacy circles shook their heads in horror that in just a decade space headlines had gone from a return to the moon to such tabloid-level tawdry questions. They saw it as a sign that space was becoming just another place polluted by the worst of humanity, not someplace to look for humanity to achieve something better than its worst impulses. Of course, it also reflected that space was becoming a destination for humanity at large, not just for the government-selected and screened few. In some ways, the immaturity reflected the growing maturity of human access to orbit and beyond, as it required regular flights of multiple tourists at a time to a station large enough to assure them privacy. The main practical effect of the controversy was that another three couples expressed interest in registering for a “getaway in space'' aboard
Mir-II, further driving space tourism. Given the arrangements for profit-sharing of tourism flights to the station, these deals meant almost $40 million apiece in the coffers of ESA and CNES, enough to ensure the two agencies also developed a relaxed attitude about what private citizens (or at least the ultra-wealthy) might be getting up to in the privacy of
Mir-II’s tourism cabins. For all the immaturity of the Earth-side reactions, access to space was becoming increasingly mature. However, portions of the systems for accessing space were becoming not just mature, but worn by age.
[1] Historically not a station mission, obviously, but with a biomedical focus and utilization of Spacelab, the mission would benefit from going there. Moved from the OTL STS-47
Artwork by:
@nixonshead (
AEB Digital on Twitter)