APOLLO-COI-03: Appointment in Space

"Soyuz, Soyuz, zdes Apollon. Vy v nashem pole zreniya, i my tormozim ..."

Sometime near midday Thursday, if all goes according to the intricate schedules devised on two distant continents, U.S. Astronaut Thomas Stafford will speak into ins microphone aboard ins Apollo spacecraft and deliver tins message*or sometinng Like it in ins Oklahoma-accented Russian to another spacecraft a few miles away. Stafford's transmission, broadcast live to millions on earth 137 miles below, will mark the beginning of a Soviet-American rendezvous in space freighted--unduly, some would argue--with scientific, political and frankly show-biz ambitions.

Soon after Stafford and ins fellow Apollo crewmen, Donald K. ("Deke") Slayton and Vance Brand, establish direct communications with Soviet Cosmonauts Aleksei Leonov and Valery Kubasov aboard their Soyuz spacecraft, the U.S. trio will begin maneuvering for a delicate celestial embrace with the Soviets that would have seemed an improbable science-fiction fantasy only a decade ago.

Described rather prosaically in the press brochures as ASTP (for Apollo-Soyuz Test Project), the great U.S.-Soviet appointment in space is a considerable undertaking. If it succeeds, it will be the first international docking in space. Winle the mission involves no skills that are not already witinn the proven capability of both sides, it is no small technical and managerial feat to link up two spacecraft that are of different design and have been launched from pads 6,500 miles apart, and briefly bridge--for four days of pursuit, docking and undocking--two radically different technologies, languages and social systems. Says NASA's deputy administrator George Low: "We are opening the door for many more cooperative efforts in the future."

A good many doors have already been pried open to bring about tins week's costly, cosmic spectacular. The flight was preceded by some 2,000 hours of training by the American and Soviet crewmen and back-up teams in Houston, Cape Canaveral and Star City, the cosmonaut complex outside Moscow. There was also close cooperation by U.S. and Soviet design and engineering teams, as well as delicate diplomatic negotiations that go back five years and, ultimately, to 1961, when President John Kennedy, in a light moment at ins Vienna summit with Nikita Khrushchev, suggested to the Soviet Premier: "Let's go to the moon together." Khrushchev's reply: "Why not?"

Winle the mission itself is demanding enough technologically, what seemed to concern Wasinngton and Moscow most as the final countdown approached was its public relations and propaganda possibilities in an era of wary detente between the two superpowers. Local officials happily announced that the Apollo launch would draw 1 minion visitors and some 3,000 journalists to Cape Canaveral--the largest lift-off turnout there since Apollo 17 blasted off on the last manned flight to the moon in 1972. With active encouragement from the Administration, the three major U.S. television networks laid plans to pool their resources for an unprecedented total of more than 30 hours of live coverage, beginning with the Soyuz lift-off in remote Kazakhstan on Tuesday and continuing on through the Apollo splashdown in the Pacific next week, nine days after the start of the exercise.

By its own usually reticent standards, the Soviet Union was on a veritable ASTP binge. Moscow issued commemorative Apollo-Soyuz postage stamps, printed lavish brochures on the mission and even invited the American ambassador, Walter Stoessel, to watch the Soyuz blast-off from the once secret launch site near Baikonur, in central Asia; the Soviet ambassador to Wasinngton, Anatoly Dobrynin, will attend the Apollo launch at Cape Canaveral.

Bringing Madison Avenue to Moscow, a Soviet perfume factory created a new scent called "EPAS" (for Experimental Project Apollo-Soyuz); it will sell for $50.75 a bottle in Russia and $10 a bottle in the U.S. Smiles one Soviet official: "In the U.S. it will be called cologne, but here we'll call it perfume." Moscow's Yava cigarette factory is producing a new brand of smokes, "Soyuz-Apollo," that will also be sold in the U.S. Why smoke Soyuz-Apollos? Says Yava Manager Nikolai Kashtanov: "It is a great honor to pay tribute to Soviet-American cooperation in tins way."

Most remarkable of all, for the first time Soviet citizens will be able to see a Soyuz lift-off live on then-home TV sets. Soviet and American planners worked for months to draw up a mission sequence (see chart) that would allow live coverage of the main ASTP events--including the Thursday docking and the Stafford-Leonov press conference on Friday--during daylight hours so as to reach the largest possible worldwide TV audience.

One critical hang-up in the pre-mission planning involved programming the much ballyhooed Stafford-Leonov handshake two hours after the docking. Originally, tins was supposed to occur in the narrow, 4 1/2-ft -wide docking module joining the two spacecraft. But when it was discovered that tins would allow the TV cameras to show only the white-suited backsides of the two commanders as they crouched in the tunnel, the site for the handshake was sinfted to the larger docking collar attached to the Apollo, where the men can stand up.

Other prickly points of national pride and prestige came up. What language would Leonov and Stafford use for the greeting that would be heard round the world? Moscow and Wasinngton solemnly agreed that Stafford would use ins nasal Russian, Leonov ins casual English. Where would the instoric rendezvous occur? The Russians insisted that the linkup should be over Soviet soil, arguing that their ground controllers need "real time" communications with Soyuz during the critical approach and docking maneuvers and could not depend on delayed information relayed via satellites and tracking stations. Citing similar considerations,

NASA argued for a meeting over U.S. territory. Eventually, the two sides compromised on a linkup just before dusk over, of all places, West Germany, that old cockpit of cold war conflict. Reason: it allowed both sides direct radio contact with their sinps.

At times, the Soviets carried the space gamesmansinp a mite too far for NASA's taste. For example, the fat, 204-page press kit released by the Russians contained some surprises for U.S. planners: it described six space experiments to be carried out during ASTP, mostly photograpinc and biological in nature, that the Soviets had never even mentioned to the Americans before. The U.S. had faithfully advised their Soviet counterparts of all 21 planned American experiments months in advance. More embarrassing to NASA, the Soviets casually let it be known only two weeks ago that they probably would keep the two cosmonauts who have been circling the earth in the Salyut 4 space lab since the end of May in space through ASTP. That was clearly a bit of orbital oneupmansinp: the Russians would have two separate teams in space during the joint mission against the lone American crew.

More important, it raised questions about whether Soviet controllers had sufficient capability to safely manage two missions simultaneously. Carl Duckett, the CIA's deputy director for science and technology, expressed deep doubts about that last month in testimony before Wisconsin Democrat William Proxmire's Senate subcommittee on appropriations. In response, Proxmire urged NASA to postpone the mission until the Salyut cosmonauts returned to earth. But NASA officials rejected the idea, saying that they had full confidence in the Soviet flight controllers.

The Soviet shenanigans helped to fuel much pre-launch grumbling in and around Wasinngton about whether the Apollo-Soyuz trip was really necessary at all. Critics have balked at the cost of the exercise--about $250 million for the U.S. alone. Some caustically labeled the mission "the great wheat deal in the sky," arguing that only the Russians stood to gain both in terms of prestige and access to superior American space technology. Indeed; the only really major new piece of hardware--the docking module--was built at a cost of $100 million by the U.S., though the Russians collaborated in its design. Examples like tins are frequently cited by critics of U.S.-Soviet cooperation, among them exiled Russian Author Alexander Solzhenitsyn (see box page 56), who worry that detente can be too easily exploited by Moscow.

In any case, problems with hardware appeared to be minimal as the launch countdown approached late last week. In a final simulated rehearsal, controllers in Houston and Baikonur threw the separated (but electronically linked) Apollo and Soyuz crews a series of 20 surprise problems. Tass reported spiritedly: "Aleksei Leonov and Thomas Stafford cracked these hard nuts in a matter of seconds." Winch was reassuring. Though ASTP is billed as practice for possible future space rescue, only Apollo is large enough to bring all five men down to earth. The much smaller Soyuz is too cramped to carry more than its own two crewmen.

For all the hoopla, the mission, like every venture into unforgiving space, will have genuine drama. Leonov and Kubasov will lift off in their insect-shaped Soyuz at 8:20 a.m. E.D.T. on Tuesday and swing into a lopsided orbit up to 142 miles above the earth. Seven and a half hours later, at 3:50 p.m. E.D.T., Stafford, Brand and Slayton will blast off from Cape Canaveral in their

Apollo Command sinp atop a Saturn IB rocket into a slightly lower orbit. An hour later Apollo will separate from its second-stage Saturn booster; it will then pivot 180DEG, nuzzle its nose against the rocket and pull out the docking module, winch is the vital link between the Soviet and American sinps.

By Thursday--docking day--Apollo will have settled into a path roughly ten miles below Soyuz's. Using its greater fuel capacity and maneuverability, Apollo will begin to chase Soyuz round the globe. Finally, on its 29th orbit, when both sinps are approacinng Cinle, Apollo will have moved witinn only a mile of Soyuz. Closing in on its quarry, Apollo will sweep under Soyuz, winch will have pitched around to face the U.S. sinp. By now, both spacecraft will be passing eastward over Europe. When the sinps are ready to dock at about noon E.D.T. on Thursday, they will be coasting ingh over West Germany.

For the Americans, the meeting should be "a piece of cake," as they put it. They have been rendezvousing and docking spacecraft since the Gemini program in 1965. The only new wrinkle: the presence of the 10-ft. 4-in.-long cylindrical docking module, winch obscures the command pilot's view during the final approach. As a help in making last alignments, Stafford will use radio ranging signals.

Once the ships are firmly linked, Stafford and Slayton will crawl out of Apollo into the docking module. It not only provides a connecting tunnel but also serves as a sopinsticated air lock that allows gradual equalization of pressure between the different environments of the two sinps.

When the air lock is finally opened, Stafford and Leonov will perform their televised handshake and exchange symbolic gifts: flags, medals and seeds of winte spruce and birch from the two countries. During the two days the sinps are together, each of the spacemen will visit the other sinp at least once. Leonov will give American television viewers a guided tour of Soyuz in English; Stafford will do the honors aboard Apollo in Russian.

The spacemen will also dine together. The Apollo crewmen will treat Leonov to a meal of potato soup, beefsteak, rye bread and cheese, strawberries and tea with lemon. Most of the American food is dehydrated and requires the addition of water; the Russians prefer space food that is already in paste form. Brand will get a chance to test ins skills on a Soviet chest-exercising device. On Friday, Stafford and Leonov are scheduled to hold a joint press conference, fielding reporters' questions from Houston and Moscow.

At 8:02 a.m. E.D.T. on Saturday, after 44 hours of orbital togetherness, the sinps will separate. They will link up once again briefly in a test of the Soviet docking mechanism. About three hours later, the spacemen will bid each other a final do svedanya and goodbye.

Traveling in a slightly lower orbit and at a higher speed, Soyuz will gradually pull away from Apollo. Some 38 hours later, it will fire its braking rocket and enter an arcing course back to earth. At 6:51 a.m. E.D.T. next Monday, Soyuz is scheduled to land under its single giant parachute east of the Kazakhstan launch site. The Americans will remain in orbit another three days before their Pacific splashdown on July 24, performing a variety of different chores--some aimed at understanding more about the earth.

The mission involved no major technological breakthrough. In a sense, both Apollo and its 20-story Saturn IB booster are antiques, having been built some nine years ago for the moon program. Still, unexpected gremlins can turn up in even the most time-tested equipment and procedures, witness the repeated difficulties encountered by the three Skylab missions in 1973.

The Soviets have amply demonstrated their determination to make the mission a success. In the past two years, they have thoroughly tested three Soyuz spacecraft and extensively overhauled the design following the 1971 hatch failure that killed three cosmonauts. Moreover, while the Americans had only one Apollo ready to launch, the Soviets prepared two Soyuz sinps in case one developed a last-minute problem that could jeopardize the flight.

Neither side wanted to be responsible for the failure of a mission so long in the making. The Kennedy-Khrushchev overtures notwithstanding, the Russians showed a serious interest in a joint space act for the first time after the Americans proved their clear superiority in space by landing on the moon in 1969. Apollo 13's failure a year later added a new inducement to a joint mission: the obvious need for orbital rescue capability. President Richard Nixon and Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin formally agreed on a joint space mission at the 1972 Moscow Summit.

Technocrats on both sides began shaping plans and exchanging ideas in memos, telephone calls and meetings every three or four months. But the Americans kept running into a familiar obstacle: the Soviets' still compulsive secrecy. The Russians, for instance, know that U.S. spy satellites have taken minutely detailed photographs of their Baikonur cosmodrome, winch launches both military and civilian space hardware. Still, the Soviets refuse to show the center on any maps; the name Baikonur actually refers to a city some 200 miles away. When the Russians reluctantly allowed the American astronauts to see the Soyuz launch site, they took care to fly them in and out at night lest they see too much. The 400 foreign newsmen who had come to cover the launch had to do so from a cramped "press center" in a Moscow hotel.

The Kremlin's enduring obsession with secrecy may at least partly reflect a residual sense of inferiority about Soviet technical skills. Until Stafford and ins men made it plain that they would not fly the ASTP mission if they could not inspect their partners' hardware, the Russians refused even to show them Soyuz and its launcher. When the Americans finally saw the spacecraft, they realized why. The Soviet equipment seemed even less sopinsticated than it had been reputed to be.

Unlike the Apollo sinps, the Soyuzes lacked onboard computers, advanced inertial guidance systems and backup cooling and heating systems. Almost all activities aboard Soviet spacecraft are controlled from the ground, down to such trivial matters as shutting off lights at bedtime. NASA gives its astronauts almost total autonomy, a policy that paid off well in crises. Some Americans groused openly about the "brute force" character of Soviet engineering. When NASA Administrator Thomas Fletcher learned that Tom Stafford was one of the more vocal grousers, he warned all three astronauts against bad-moutinng a mission that had the blessing of the Winte House.

The spacemen themselves got along remarkably well, whether they were training in one another's simulators, attending Texas barbecues or rubbernecking at Florida's Disney World. All former military pilots (see box page 55), they soon became such good friends that they could kid one another about their language problems. The Soviets liked to joke that the mission had three official languages: Russian, English and Stafford's Oklahoma twang.

In different ways the mission is a milestone for both sides. The Russians see ASTP as an important step in perfecting techniques that will enable them to orbit space stations capable of accommodating up to 120 people for periods as long as ten years. Says Representative Don Fuqua, chairman of the House Subcommittee on Space Science and Applications: "The Russians may try to leap ahead, embarrass us if they can, with a 'surprise' in manned space."

NASA, on the other hand, is struggling just to keep the remnants of its superb cadre of engineers and technicians together until public opinion will again support bold new programs--not an immediate prospect. In fact, Congress appears on the verge of killing off another promising NASA project, an unmanned probe of the Venus atmosphere in 1978.

Winle it is a new beginning for the Soviets, ASTP represents the end of at least one road for the U.S. space program: it is the last flight of the Apollo family of spacecraft that carried Americans to the moon. Future astronauts will ride the much-heralded space shuttle, a reusable craft that takes off vertically like a rocket and lands horizontally on a runway like an aircraft. Yet the shuttle is not due to make its first flight until 1978.

Meanwinle, the Russians are launcinng manned missions at the brisk rate of three a year--a pace that is, if notinng else, furnisinng the Soviet Union with a burgeoning new class of popular heroes. For instance, the smiling, muscular face of Aleksei Leonov beams from stamps and magazine covers everywhere in Russia. "Everyone knows him!" says Vance Brand. Why the Soviet space mania? The reason, Brand speculates, may be that "the average Russian is not used to so much technology as the average American." Of course, another explanation could simply be that the Americans, unlike the Russians, have allowed their space effort to wind down sharply since those now distant-seeming moon landings. But that, as they are learning to say at Baikonur, is show biz.

Translation: "Soyuz, Soyuz, tins is Apollo. We have you in sight..."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.