Category China in Space

This appeared to end the series. The long-promised seeds satellite, flown as Shi Jian 8 and launched from Jiuquan on 9th September 2006, is, for convenience, reviewed here (the rest of the Shi Jian series is reported in Chapter 7). Although it has a different designator, we know that it was an FSW cabin and it was many times referred to by the Chinese as the “23rd recoverable mission” and as an FSW 3 series mission. The orbit was similar to other Jian Bing 4s, with a perigee of 178 km and apogee of 449 km. A day into the mission, it was reported that the seeds and fungi
were already sprouting: high-definition cameras sent back pictures of their growth every two hours to Xian mission control for forwarding on to the Shanghai Institute for Biological Science. The recoverable satellite came down after 15 days on the morning of 24th September, while the orbital module stayed aloft for another three days. It is also possible that it was the last film-based photo-reconnaissance mission. Shi Jian 8 was brought for examination to the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Science, where its seeds, vegetables, plans, fruits, grains, and cotton were handed over to the Institute for Plant Physiology and the Shanghai Institute for Biological Sciences.

An important breakthrough in Shi Jian 8 was live and recorded video broadcasting of experiments under way. Shi Jian 8 had a volume of 0.9 m3, 0.45 m3 in the recovered cabin, and an overall payload of 600 kg including a down payload of 250 kg. There were 215 kg of vegetables, fruit, grains, seeds, and cotton on board of 2,000 types, 152 species, 202 accessions, 80 groups, and 9 plant types. Shi Jian 8 carried experiments on the mutation of seeds, cell cultivation, mass transfer, granular media, surface deformation, boiling water, fire resistance, higher plants, smoldering, and a spring accelerometer. The satellite had a 256-GB memory, transmitting daily downlink on S-band at 8 MB a day in 25-min passes. Most FSW experiments were designed to be operated automatically, using a pre-programmed timer, but some were commanded on by telemetry. Whereas the seeds experiments were located in the recoverable module, the materials processing experiments appear to have been located in the orbital module. The orbital module experiments are listed in Table 4.1.

Looking at the experiments in more detail, Shi Jian 8 carried a Mach-Zehnder interferometer, a system of light beams to measure the behavior of water droplets in a protein solution in zero gravity, named after Ludwig Mach (son of Ernst, who invented the Mach number) and Ludwig Zehnder. An exotic experiment undertaken with French scientists studied the behavior of granular gas balls [13]. Shi Jian 8 continued the heating and boiling experiments first tried on FSW 22, this time using a plate heater. Water droplets were immersed in protein solutions. An experiment in granular matter was carried out to test, using video, the Maxwell demon effect (an experiment developed by James Clerk Maxwell to test the laws of thermodynamics).

An important experiment carried out tests on one of the great dangers of spaceflight: fire. In 1967, the Apollo 1 astronauts had died when a smoldering wire caused a fire, which, in an oxygen-rich atmosphere, rapidly consumed the cabin.

Table 4.1. Shi Jian 8 orbital module experiments.

Smoldering and combustion in microgravity Fire transmission by wires in microgravity Heat transfer in microgravity Granular media in microgravity Mass transfer in microgravity Development of mice embryos in microgravity Effects of microgravity on Chinese cabbage

Smoldering fires were subsequently detected on five shuttle missions (STS-6, 28, 35, 40, and 50). Here, an experiment found that the heat-loss factors that normally dissipate smoldering on the Earth were much reduced in weightlessness, making such pre-fires potentially far more dangerous. Electric wiring was much more likely to overheat and catch fire than on the ground. It was found that, in a 21% oxygen environment, smoldering flame on polyurethane foam did not progress but, at 35%, oxygen turned to flame and spread fast [14].

Four Kunming white mice early-stage cell embryos were carried on the non­recoverable module: they were photographed every three hours for 72 hr and it was found that the embryos failed to develop normally (none got beyond eight cells), unlike an identical ground control set. Scientists came to the conclusion that microgravity had a lethal effect on embryos at an early stage. Also in the orbital module was a garden of eight Chinese cabbages, the aim being to follow the growth cycle from germination through to pollination. The garden had lamps to illuminate the plants and cameras took pictures every 2 hr. Although leaf shapes were unaffected by weightlessness, there were fewer leaves and they grew shorter, more slowly, and wilted before the petals had even fully extended [15].

At the time of this mission, it was announced that it would be followed by Shi Jian 10 for a 28-day mission in microgravity and life sciences – a mission originally scheduled for 2010 but which slipped. The aim is to carry 20 experiments in microgravity fluid physics, microgravity combustion, space materials science, fundamental space physics, space biotechnology, and to study the biological effect of gravity and radiation. The materials processing experiments would focus on crystal growth from melt, under-cooling, crystal growth solutions, nucleation, and the solidification of alloys. While awaiting the next mission, China’s following cargo flew on a Russian satellite, Foton М3, in September 2007, using its Polizon-M furnace to test new materials for Diluted Magnetic Semiconductors (DMS). The experiment involved creating a rotating magnetic field around a heated, growing crystal [16].

CBERS is the most high-profile international collaborative program developed by China. It is very much the achievement of one person: Renato Archer (1922-96), a naval officer and expert in nuclear energy who became a social democrat member of parhament during the 1960s and was then jailed by the military government. Many years later, he became Minister for Science and Technology, with responsibility for the Brazilian space agency, INPE. At a pohtical level, he believed in the importance of Brazil’s pursuing a foreign policy independently of Europe and the United States,

so, in December 1984, a Brazilian delegation was sent to Beijing to explore cooperation in space applications. Renato Archer himself traveled there in July 1986 to meet with the China Academy of Space Technology (CAST). Brazil had an active space program (sounding rockets, leading to its first satellite in 1993) and indeed had put efforts into trying to develop its own launcher (though with little success). Three areas of cooperation were explored: Earth resources, communications, and launchers. Chinese technicians visited Brazil in February 1987, where they presented the idea of a collaborative Earth resources program based on Zi Yuan and this was formally agreed on 6th July 1988 at a ceremony signed in Beijing by Brazilian President Jose Sarney.

The project was developed on a 70:30 China:Brazil basis, the total cost of the project being budgeted at between €330m and €345m. The project was called China Brazil Earth Resources Satellite and involved the building of two satellites, one in China, the second in Brazil. The first launch was scheduled for 1992, but suffered five years of delays, due mainly to political upheavals (Tiananmen, 1989, as well as domestic pohtics in Brazil). There were practical difficulties, too. The agreed working language was English, because most young Brazilian scientists had studied in American or European universities or institutes, but the much older Chinese scientists spoke only Chinese or Russian. CAST’s technical documentation was only in Chinese but, to develop an English text, “the Chinese secretaries did not know the English alphabet, so when they tried to work with it, just typing a few lines took hours” [11]. Happily, they found a Taiwanese-born Chinese and Portuguese­speaking geographer, Sherry Chou Chen, to bridge the gap.

CBERS weighed 1,450 kg and was a box 1.8 x 2 x 2.2 m, with one solar panel 2.6 m tall and 6.3 m long, able to generate 1.1 kW of power, while hydrazine powered the maneuvering jets. It was designed to cross the equator at 10:30 am every day, so as to set a standard point of reference for Sun angles on the targets observed, with a revisit pattern of 26 days. It was China’s first digital imaging satellite, overtaking the old “wet film” recoverable technology of the FSW series. CBERS was designed to enter an orbit of 774 km, 78.5°, similar to that of the Feng Yun 1, and provide detailed images of the Earth in five channels using Unear CCD cameras with a resolution of 20 m, able to tilt up to 32° to either side for oblique shots, swath 110 km, comparable to the French SPOT 4. CBERS was built to carry a multispectral infrared scanner (IRMSS) (resolution 20 m, swath 120 km) and a wide-field imager (WFI) (resolution 258 m, swath 890 km). The WFI was Brazilian – built, but the other components were made in China. The intention was to cover the country in narrow, medium, and wide resolution simultaneously. A data-collection system could pick up and retransmit information from unmanned inland stations and buoys.

CBERS was set for launch in September 1998 but, that July, the Chinese presciently announced that, due to incoming unfavorable weather, it would be delayed for a year. The first CBERS was eventually cleared for launch from Taiyuan on 26th September 1999 and its fuel tanks filled over the following three days. On the 30th, it was attached to its fairing. Nothing happened for the next two days, as launch workers had time off to observe the national holiday to mark the revolution

50 years earlier. Final integration took place over the 3rd to the 11th, after which the CZ-4B rocket itself was fuelled up. On 14th October, 400 technicians from both countries saw the launch and the rocket pitch over southward only 20 sec into its mission, heading over towards Laos. Twenty-two minutes and 40 sec after launch, CBERS 1 was ejected from the now bumed-out third stage and, 25 sec later, released a Brazilian subsatellite, SAC-1, or Scientific Applications Satellite 1. The successful deployment of both was soon confirmed by a ground tracking station at Nanning. By way of an endnote, the fuels left in the Long March 4B upper stage combusted accidentally on 11th March 2000, blowing the stage apart, scattering 300 fragments in orbit and spewing out a dust cloud of tiny fuel particles. Ironically, the Chinese had become increasingly aware of the problem of orbital debris and the Long March 4 was the first Chinese rocket fitted with a system of venting residual propellants to prevent this very situation from arising, obviously without much success.

Seven hours later, CBERS was over Brazil and picked up by the main tracking station at Sao Jose dos Campos. In China, CBERS was tracked by stations in Beijing, Guanzhou, and Urumqi as well as the main mission control center in Xian which was responsible for on-orbit checkout. Data were sent down to the additional ground stations in Cuiaba and Alcantara. The initial orbit of CBERS 1 was 728­745 km, inclination 98.55° (polar), and period 99.6 min. Six days later, the satellite began to use its motor to gradually raise its orbit, in order to reach a perfect Sun – synchronous operating altitude. Over a month, in the course of 13 maneuvers, it

pushed its altitude to a circular orbit at 774 km, period 100.32 min, which it reached on 9th November, which enabled it to circle the Earth 14 times a day and revisit the same track over the ground every 26 days. CBERS carried out small but regular maneuvers to raise its orbit: whenever it fell to 100.315 min, the motor would fire briefly to lift it back up to 100.322 min. The wide-field instrument was reported to have failed after 177 days because of a short circuit.

A mission report four months later recorded that data were being collected for agriculture, forestry, water quality, urban planning, and environmental protection. Among the first commercial users of CBERS data were cellulose manufacturers (for information on eucalyptus trees) and government agencies trying to prevent slash-and – bum farming practices in the Brazilian jungle. In October 2001, the Space Mechanical and Electrical Research Institute in Beijing held a seminar to mark the first two years of the mission. CBERS 1 had sent back more than 200,000 images, of which 3,000 had been customized into publicly available CCD images. They had picked up anything from coal mine fires in Ningxia to landslides along the Yigong River in Bomi, Tibet. Its images were used by 1,200 operators in China and 3,000 in Brazil.

After four years, CBERS raised its orbit to 773-782 km, which became its retirement orbit. CBERS 1 operated for double its two-year planned lifetime, sending back over 8,000 images of China, covering 99% of the country. CBERS 1 retired in August 2003 but NASA reported that, on 18th February 2007, there was an accidental explosion of remaining propellant, which created another 60 pieces of debris [12].

It was soon replaced by the 1,550-kg CBERS 2, built in Brazil and put into orbit by China on 21st October 2003. CBERS 2 carried the first Chuangxin (“creation”) micro-satellite, China’s smallest satellite to that point at only 88 kg (see below). CBERS 2 was technically similar to CBERS 1, with a high-resolution camera, wide – field camera, and multispectral camera, but there were improvements: downlink data volume was doubled and the revisit time shortened from 26 days to 13 days. The instruments were developed by the Beijing Institute of Space Mechanics and Engineering, all able to send images in real time. The multispectral CCD camera weighed 198 kg, had a focal length of 1.01 m, a spatial resolution of 5 m (10 m from the operating altitude of 778 km), and a side-look capability of 32°. The multi­spectral scanner weighed 135 kg, and had a focal length of 1.4 m and a resolution of 40 m. The light high-resolution CCD camera weighed 73 kg and had a focal length of 3.3 m. CBERS 2 concentrated on observing deforestation, land changes, natural disasters, pollution, and underground resources. CBERS 2 operated initially from 731-750 km and eventually raised its orbit to the same as CBERS 1. Its service Ufe took it to at least 2009.

Within a year, CBERS 2 was generating 2,100 images a week and had 15,000 individual users in 8,000 institutes and organizations. In its first three years, CBERS 2 built an image bank of over 150,000 pictures. The total number of CCD scenes distributed by May 2006 was 210,000, each CD having 145 MB. Users comprised private bodies and farms (51%), educational organizations (26%), and government bodies (23%). Typically, the CBERS catalog is downloaded 650 times a day.

After a further four-year gap, CBERS 2B flew on the CZ-4B from Taiyuan on 19th September 2007 into an orbit of 736-741 km. It weighed 1,452 kg and was designed to send data on land use, agricultural production, and environmental protection. On 21st September, it climbed to its operational altitude of 773 km. CBERS 2B continued the high-resolution CCD camera and wide-field imager, but the IRMSS medium-resolution camera was replaced by a new high-resolution camera of 2.5-m resolution in the visible spectrum with a swath of 27 km and was able to swivel 4°. To improve pointing accuracy, the satelhte carried both satellite navigation (Global Positioning System (GPS)) and a star sensor. Within a year,

320.0 of its images had been downloaded from the internet worldwide. CBERS 2B ceased operations in April 2010 and Brazil put China under pressure to bring forward CBERS 3.

CBERS 3 is due by 2013, CBERS 4A by 2015, and 4B by 2017, with Brazil putting €230m into the program. CBERS 3 weighs 1,980 kg, can generate 2.3 kW of power, and is to be accompanied by a 500-kg observation mini-satellite, Amazonia. The number of cameras will be increased from three to five:

• a four-band panchromatic camera taking images of 5 and 10-m resolution, with a swath of 60 km and a swivel ability of 32°;

• a multispectral camera, 20-m resolution, with a swath of 120 km;

• an infrared multispectral camera taking images at 40 and 80-m resolution in four bands, with a swath of 120 km, all built in China;

• a four-band advanced WFI, resolution 73 m from 890 km, built in Brazil;

• a 20-m CCD camera, resolution 20 m, swath 120 km, also built in Brazil.

Overall, 50% will be made in Brazil, compared to 30% for CBERS 1-2. The satellites will have a design lifetime of three years. Transmission rates will treble from 100 mbps to 300 mbps. They will be followed by CBERS 5 and 6 with 1-m resolution to follow by 2020 and, later, CBERS 7 will be a Synthetic Aperture Radar satellite.

The CBERS series have had important results and outcomes for Brazil. In 1998, the Brazilian space agency, INPE, organized a team to prepare the dissemination and application of CBERS data. Regular workshops and “CBERS weeks” were held to discuss the results and outcomes. Applicants registered on INPE’s CBERS site, identified the ground area in which they were interested, and were then able to choose the images they wished to download. CBERS was able to provide a new agricultural map on a scale of 1:250,000 and the country is now covered in 172 new maps. Coloring could identify what crops were ready for harvesting or which had already been taken in: soy showed up as red before, but green afterward. A new vegetation map was made by the University of Vigosa. Land-ownership maps were developed, showing national parks and identifying individual private owners (to check against tax enforcement). Oil spills off the coast were detected.

One of the most important applications was in the area of deforestation, for the CBERS Wide Field Imager was able to image new areas of deforestation, trails, burning, and logging, especially when compared to earlier Landsat and SPOT photographs. On the east coast, only 7% of Atlantic forest remained. The first Landsat run in 1977 found a deforestation rate of 2.5%, the second run 7.5% in 1988, but CBERS data found a national deforestation rate of 18%, with

250.0 km2 being lost per year. Maps were handed over to law-enforcement agencies.

CBERS has been given high visibility by both countries and is considered by both to be a high point in their international scientific collaboration. This was symbolized

when, in 2004, President Hu Jintao visited the national space research institute in Sao Paolo and planted a bellflower tree there. At one stage, China proposed that Malaysia join the CBERS program and have its own receiving station, but this does not appear to have been pursued. In a similar initiative, Venezuela signed a €100m agreement with China in 2011 for a 500-kg CAST2000 Earth observation satellite, VNRSS, for launch on Long March 4B and an order for a Turkish military reconnaissance satellite, Goturk, due to fly in 2012, presumably based on the same technology. The series is summarized in Table 6.4.

Space science has not been a prominent aspect of the Chinese space program. The substituting of scientific instruments originally intended for the first Chinese satellite by a tape recorder playing “The East Is Red” was an indicator of things to come. The number of purely scientific satellites launched by China is small: Shi Jian 1, 2, 4, and 5, with some scientific instruments and experiments carried out on other spacecraft (e. g. the early communications satellites, Feng Yun). The Tianwen Weixing was canceled in 1984. Despite a lengthy campaign by the astronomical and astrophysics community, other scientific projects like the solar telescope and the x – ray telescope have had long gestation periods and, despite conception in the 1990s, have still to fly 20 years later. Clearly, science has found it difficult to fight its comer, even in a financial environment more stable than that of Russia, where space science suffered badly in the years of economic difficulty. The Tan Ce missions did give China a substantial scientific return, as well as international recognition, and may have provided the encouragement necessary to renew old and develop new missions, like the SST, the Hard X-ray Modulation Telescope, Kuafu, and MIT. As we will see later, the government came to recognize the importance of rectifying the historic underinvestment in space science and set down fresh plans for more ambitious missions in space science (see Chapter 10). Some of these gaps were later made good by the use of the orbital module of the Shenzhou manned program to carry scientific packages – a role reviewed in the course of Chapter 8, as well as by the start of the lunar program in the early twenty-first century (Chapter 9).

China now sketched out a sequence for its subsequent lunar missions, the main spokesperson being program director Ye Peijian. Although the dates appeared to move around, the fundamental sequence did not, namely two rovers (Chang e 3 in 2013, Chang e 4 later) and then 2-m core sample return missions (Chang e 5 in 2017, Chang e 6 later). Chang e 3 was expected to double the size of the previous missions and weigh up to 3,750 kg, requiring a CZ-3B launcher. The objectives of the mission were listed as to survey the topography and geological structure of the Moon, to analyze the content and the distribution of its mineral and chemical elements, to explore the Earth’s plasma layer from the Moon, and to carry out optical astronomy observations from the Moon. The mission profile was for it to first enter a 100-km circular orbit, adjusted to 100-15 km for the descent maneuver. At the 15-km point, retrorockets would bring the craft down from a velocity of 1.7 km/sec to dead stop at an altitude of 2 km. Smaller throttleable engines would then bring the craft down to 100 m as its radar searched for a debris-clear crater-free landing area, the engine being commanded off at 4 m for a final free fall, with crushable material in its landing legs.

Chang e 3 was expected to deploy a small rover with a plutonium 238 nuclear power source to keep it warm for the lunar nights. The six-wheel rover would investigate the material and geological composition of the surface for a minimum of 90 days. Considerable effort was devoted to hazard avoidance during landing: the landing radar would be loaded with terrain features identified by Chang e 2’s reference data, which the incoming spacecraft would match against its own radar and steer the lander to the right, flat point. At an early stage, landing, radar, and hazard-avoidance tests were carried out in the eastern Xinjiang desert, selected as the best Earthly analogue to the Moon for testing out lunar rovers and other equipment to function on the Moon.

Models of the mother craft and rover were exhibited at the Zhuhai air show in 2009. The lander had a descent camera to image the surface during the landing, a

topographic camera to photograph the landscape and the rover moving across it, an extreme ultraviolet camera, and an astronomical telescope to focus on a number of astrophysical objects to magnitude +15. The rover had a panoramic camera, x-ray spectrometer, infrared spectrometer, and radar [14].

Chang e 4 was expected to be a follow-up rover mission, much as Chang e 2 had followed Chang e 1, but at the south pole. In the meantime, work began on the sample return mission, Chang e 5. Studies began of the best return route for samples, even sketching out a return path on a given date (1st July 2016) and the navigation systems for take-off from the lunar surface while work started on the drill that would bring a core sample back to the Earth, much as Luna 24 had done as far back as 1976 [15]. The schedule projected was:

Chemical map of the landing area for the Chang e 3 rover. Courtesy: Chen Shengbo.

Altitude <m)

1000

:

Magnetic map, identifying anomalies to be explored using the Chang e 3 rover. Courtesy: Chen Shengbo.

When China’s manned spaceflight program was approved in 1992 (see Chapter 8), it was always made clear that its objective was to bring crews up to an orbiting space station. There, they could observe the Earth’s surface and atmosphere below and the heavens above, overcome the medical and related problems of long-duration spaceflight necessary for later flights to the planets, as well as carry out scientific and engineering experiments. Tiangong was only a step towards a permanent space station. The Chinese chose to follow the step-by-step approach of the first country to build an orbiting station: the Soviet Union. The Russians had built the first orbiting station, Salyut, able to take one crew at a time (in 1971). Later, they built a semi­permanent station where crews could stay for lengthy periods and be supplied (Salyut 6) and then a station designed to be occupied throughout its life (Mir). Although Tiangong was about half the size of Salyut, the idea was similar.

China had hoped to join the ISS project. The international station was the outcome of an agreement between the Russian and American governments in 1992 to merge the proposed American Freedom space station and the Russian Mir 2. The other partners of the United States on the Freedom project – Europe, Canada, and Japan – duly joined the ISS. After numerous delays, the first components of the ISS were eventually put into orbit in 1998 in what became the biggest international engineering project in history. China made several pitches to join the ISS project, dropping heavy hints to visiting journalists and officials of other space programs, especially the Europeans. ISS was not a true international project without them, they argued. They pointed out that their Shenzhou manned spacecraft could easily dock with the ISS – all they needed was an invitation. The United States Congress, though, gave China an uncompromising brush-off. The polite reason was the need for China to sign non-proliferation agreements, but some congressmen made inflammatory remarks about not having Chinese spies running around our space station. China briefly flirted with the idea of leasing the Russian Mir station, by then at the end of its eventful life. Ultimately, China was left with no option but to build its own station. China’s space program, which dated back to 1956, before even the first Sputnik, had largely been developed indigenously, so such a challenge was nothing new. Even despite this, China never abandoned its desire to have some participation in the ISS. Chinese officials attended the launch of the European cargo ship Edoardo Amaldi to the ISS in March 2012 (they were barred from launches in Cape Canaveral) and discussed – at least with the Europeans – the possibility of a Shenzhou at some stage docking there.

Even if shunned by the United States, there were no obstacles to China’s doing business with Russia. In March 2000, work on space stations was added as a theme to the cooperation agreement between Russia and China. Russia agreed to provide technical assistance and advice (two cosmonauts were assigned to the task), build a limited number of components, provide training for ground controllers, and transfer 36 specific areas of space station technology.

China had published its first short-term space station design, what we now know as Tiangong, back in the mid-1990s, the Mandarin word meaning “heavenly palace”.

Formal government approval was given in February 1999 and the first critical design review took place in May that year. The first model was built in February 2003 and, with the words “space laboratory” on its side, spotted at the hydrotank in the training center. Pictures of a full-scale prototype were published in 2005. It was based on the Shenzhou service module, with two rotatable solar panels, a scheduled lifetime of up to two years, and it was about half the size of Russia’s Salyut station. Film was presented on Chinese television in 2008 of Tiangong under assembly in a white room, with a backup craft being built in the background. The model was brought to Jiuquan launch center for a 50-day pad test from 12th March to 27th April 2010. The real version was completed in August 2010 [2].

The finished version was in the shape of a cylinder of two halves, one slightly wider than the other, with a docking port on the large end and beside it a rendezvous antenna. The larger cylinder had two portholes (one for visual observations, the other fitted with a camera) and a radiator for thermal control, while the smaller cyhnder had a dish antenna for communications with the Tian Lian communications satellite, solar panels, and an orbital maneuvering engine. Small attitude-control thrusters were located at a number of points. The interior color scheme was divided

into two: a darker one for the floor and a lighter one for the ceiling. It was equipped with an exercise machine and two personal cubicles. An experimental urine-recycling device was installed for testing by the astronauts for when they arrived. On board the module was space food that would not perish for 250 days. The docking system, called Sky 1, had a ring-like capture structure based on the system developed by Russia for its Soyuz spacecraft in the 1970s. The dimensions of Tiangong were as follows: length 10.4 m; diameter 3.35 m at the largest part of the cylinder; weight 8.5 tonnes; and volume 15 cm3. Chief designer was Zhang Shancong. A set of scientific instruments was agreed for the station in 2009 and these were added over the following months.

The new laboratory required some changes to the rocket required for the mission, the Long March 2F – no fewer than 38 major modifications and 132 minor ones. The principal of these was a larger launch shroud, but an escape tower would no longer be necessary. Its new designator was the 2FG but others were seen, such as 2F2, FT1, and 2FY8. Its lift-off weight was 497 tonnes, making it the heaviest rocket to fly from Jiuquan.

Everything was on course to begin the space station program in summer 2011. Tiangong arrived at Jiuquan launch center on 30th June 2011. Less than two weeks later, on 11th July, a Tian Lian relay satellite was orbited from China’s second launch center, Xi Chang in the south of the country in Sichuan. Tiangong could now communicate with ground control by beaming signals outward to 24-hr orbit, which, between two Tian Lians, guaranteed coverage throughout its orbit.

Then there was a setback. On 18th August, another version of the Long March rocket, the 2C version, failed when putting an unmanned satellite, Shi Jian 11-2, into orbit. The failure took place at a late stage in the ascent – there was no dramatic explosion – and Shi Jian fell out of the sky far downrange. It was the first failure of a Chinese satellite to get into orbit since 1996 and an unwelcome intervention in a program that had a fanatical commitment to quality control. The launching of Tiangong was put on hold so that the upper stage could be re-checked. Thankfully, the cause was quickly apparent: a connection between the servo-mechanism and second-stage vernier engine §3 had broken, causing the rocket to shut down before it reached orbit.

Eventually, Tiangong was moved to the pad on 20th September. A full ground simulation countdown was carried out on the 25th. This cleared the way for fuel to be loaded on the 28th – an operation carried out by engineers with gas masks to protect them from the toxic fuels used on the CZ-2F. Although nitric acid fuels had the advantage that they could be kept at room temperature (they did not need to be frozen) and could sit in a rocket for some time before being launched, any fumes that escaped could quickly overwhelm the rocket troops loading them. The launch was set for 13:16 UT – but that was in the middle of the night in Jiuquan. There was a 15-min launch window.

As darkness fell, Tiangong counted down smoothly on the evening of 29th September, watched by almost the entire Chinese political leadership which had traveled to Jiuquan for the occasion. Black and orange smoke billowed out from underneath the Long March rocket as, right on time, it lifted quite slowly into the

darkness, the orange a telltale sign of the nitric fuels. A tail of yellowy-orange flame spread behind as it bent over in its climb to the north-east, heading towards the China Sea and the Pacific Ocean beyond. Booster rockets fell away, followed by the first stage, and then the second stage began burning. There was no repeat of the mishap a month earlier and, eight minutes into the flight, the second stage shut down so as to spring Tiangong free on its own. Tiangong entered its orbit of 198-332 km, 42°, and, within minutes, had deployed its solar panels so that its electrical systems hummed into life. As it came over the Pacific, its signals were picked up by one of the three Yuan Wang tracking ships ( Yuan Wang 2, 5, and 6 had been on station for several weeks) rolling in the seas down below.

Controllers on the ships quickly knew that Tiangong was in the right orbit and commanded its first task: to fire its engine to adjust the orbit path to be circular at 343 km, where it would await the arrival of an unmanned spacecraft. This was done in two stages: on 30th September, Tiangong adjusted its path to 336-353 km and then made the circular orbit at 343 km. Later, they would command it up to 370 km, let the orbit gradually drop for orbital linkups at 343 km, and then bring it back up again.

While awaiting its first link-up, there was much for Tiangong to do. Newspaper reports highlighted the fact that the space station carried 300 flags from the International Astronautical Federation but, for a more serious purpose, Tiangong carried a number of scientific packages. There was a gamma ray telescope to test solar activity and detect x-ray bursts that could give clues to the structure of the cosmos, its origin, and evolution. There was an imaging spectrometer to take pictures of the Earth, track pollutants, and measure gases in the atmosphere, with a 3-D microwave altimeter to measure the height of water in the oceans and inland seas. On the outside was an exposure platform to test how glass, optical instruments, and metal alloys endured the harsh environment of Earth orbit. Inside the station were high-precision atomic clocks to test theories of gravity and a boiler to test microgravity fluid physics, material formation, and mechanics. Table 1.1 lists the scientific objectives of the orbital station.

Table 1.1. Tiangong scientific objectives, experiments, and activities.

Closed life-support systems to test ecologically sustainable systems Microgravity fluid physics, material formation, and mechanics

External exposure platform to test optical electronics and materials tests (e. g. metal alloys) High-precision atomic clocks to test theories of gravity

Polarized gamma ray telescope (gamma bursts, solar flares) to test solar activity, cosmic structure, origin and evolution of universe

Observe magnetosphere-ionosphere-atmosphere environment to develop prediction model Push broom imaging spectrometer, hyperspectrum image spectrometer for Earth observations 3-D imaging microwave altimeter for land and sea

Detect, investigate global atmospheric trace gases, atmospheric environment

Source: Gu, Yidong: Utilization of China Manned Space Engineering, International Astronautical Congress, Glasgow, Scotland, 2009.

Tiangong was tracked by eight stations abroad as it circled the Earth: Swakopmund, Malindi, Karachi, Santiago, Alcantara, Aussaguel, Kerguelen, and Dongara. Dongara, called the “rock lobster capital of Australia”, is 350 km up the coast northward of Perth. The use of Dongara first became known when it appeared on wallcharts in the mission control center in Beijing. This was a Swedish-built and owned station made available to China. Australians had hitherto been quite unaware of their country’s important contribution to the Chinese space station program, though they would have been had they subscribed to the Swedish space agency’s magazine, where this arrangement had been announced. Australia already had a long history of space tracking, with a big station at Pine Gap, near Alice Springs, and the famous Parkes radio telescope which relayed the pictures of Neil Armstrong stepping onto the lunar surface, leading to the engaging film, The Dish. The use of Dongara meant that a Yuan Wang tracking ship hitherto stationed off Western Australia could move elsewhere and thereby extend tracking cover.

Probably the least well-known of China’s launch sites, Taiyuan launch center is set in gently rolling hills in Kelan county south-west of Beijing, 1,500 m above sea level, near the coal town of Taiyuan. It began with a single pad for rocket launches with an 11-floor platform 76.9 m tall. The first launch from there was a Dong Feng missile in 1968, followed by further missile tests. It was not brought into the space program for 20 years, when it was used for the first launch of the Feng Yun weather satellite on the CZ-4A. It is the home of the Long March 4, but has also been used for some CZ – 2 missions. Taiyuan is used for application satellite launches, often into polar orbit, starting with the Feng Yun weather satellites and followed by Earth resources satellites, Yaogan military observation missions (Chapter 6), and a miscellany of other missions, such as Tan Ce (Chapter 7). The best weather for launches is between May and September. A second pad was brought into operation with the launch of Shi Jian 6-03A and 6-03B on 25th October 2008.

As can be seen, specific results were made available on Shi Jian 8. Results from the earlier 22 missions were associated not always with individual missions, but with groups of missions, and the individual satellites flown were often not identified. Nevertheless, the Chinese made a significant effort to present program outcomes collectively, so they are reviewed here.

The first scientific results of the series were reported from 1987, with the first of six materials processing flights [17]. Rice seeds brought back to the Earth crossed with Earthly grains produced high yield rates, some giving 53% more protein. Space-grown yeast offered higher and faster fermentation rates, opening up new prospects for a space beer industry. Algae flourished in orbit. Altogether, 300 varieties of seeds and 51 kinds of plants were carried in seven different biology packages. Once back from space, seeds from the plants grown on board – rice, carrot, wheat, green pepper, tomato, cucumber, maize, and soya bean – were planted out by the Institute of Genetics, further note being taken of succeeding generations over the following years. Space-exposed rice were set on a field of 667 ha, a substantial terrain, to test their yields. The results varied. Some strains of rice improved from their space experience, while others did not. Some grains grew faster and were fatter, heavier, and sturdier. Wheat experiments produced new strains that had short stems and grew fast. One strain of green pepper, called the Weixing 87-2, demonstrated a 108% increased yield, 38% less vulnerability to disease, and a 25% improved vitamin C content, bearing fruit long after terrestrial peppers had lost their leaves. Bumper 400-g green peppers were bred – twice as much as normal ground size. A fifth-generation space tomato had a yield 85% higher than its terrestrial rivals and doubled its resistance to disease. Space-grown cucumbers demonstrated a surprising ability to withstand greenhouse mildew and wilt. Female cucumber flowers were observed to flourish in the space environment. Asparagus seeds flown in space also thrived on the Earth. Overall, these outcomes matched similar results from Russian space biology experiments in which some plants thrived, others wilted, and many grew into strange shapes.

The missions of the 1990s produced more results. Exposure to weightlessness created a genetic variation in seeds which meant that the replanted seeds doubled their weight and grew taller fruit with a higher resistance to disease, a higher proportion of vitamin C, and a longer shelf life. In 1998, following these experiments, a Space Vegetable Foundation was established in Anning by the Academy of Sciences, where it further developed and sold “space fruit” to the open market. By 2002, space vegetable gardens had been established in Hebei, Gansu, and Sichuan, and 12 varieties of wheat, rice, tomato, peppers, and cucumber were grown. The space-developed cucumbers were especially successful, growing 20% longer than the purely Earthbound variety, and had a strong disease resistance (as well as tasting better, according to the experts). This was a big program, for, by the time of Shi Jian 8, space-bred seeds had been planted on 560,000 ha of farmland, producing 340 tonnes worth €50m.

Results from the Earth observations carried out on FSW missions were sparse until outcomes of the FSW 2-3 were reported in 1996. A real problem here is that no published photographs were ever attributed to FSW and images of the ground published in the Chinese media during the period of the program appeared to come from Western satellites. This may have reflected either limited distribution channels or, more Ukely, a desire not to reveal the resolution of the cameras when their principal purpose was military. Nevertheless, China claimed substantial benefits from the photography work of the FSWs. A new map of China was commissioned in 1949, but only 64% of it had been finished by 1982: 600 FSW pictures were able to finish the job in a matter of months. The total number of islands off the Chinese coast was recalculated at 5,000, instead of 3,300. The country’s farmland was recalculated at 125.3m ha rather than 104.6m ha. The FSW satelhtes had compiled detailed Earth resource maps of Beijing and its eastern environs, Tianjin and Tangshan. Oil deposits were discovered in Tarim, chromium and iron deposits in Inner Mongolia, and coal elsewhere. The FSW satellites discovered remnants of the Yuan dynasty’s ancient city of Yingchang: they even uncovered buildings erected in 1270 by the first Yuan emperor, Kublai Khan, for his daughter, Princess Luguo Dachang. Images tracked the path of the Great Wall across northern China and found the old walls of the Chengde summer palace. FSW satellites were used to prepare geological survey maps, identify the optimum routes for railway lines, and track the patterns of silting in the Huang (Yellow), Luan, and Hai Rivers. They tracked water and air pollution, observed soil erosion, and identified geological fault lines. The FSW satellites located goldfields in Mongolia, and oil and natural gas in the Yellow River delta and offshore.

Data from the FSW and Feng Yun series, combined with information from the American Landsat and the French SPOT satellites, provided a worrying picture of desertification in Qinghai in the north-west. Dynamic changes were taking place, according to the satellite data: dunes had advanced, grassland was damaged, and water resources had been misused. Elsewhere, soil erosion had been noted. Positively, the rate of afforestation had been assessed and was seen to be growing.

The use of windbreak forests in northern China had already regenerated the ecology of the area. Earth resources satellites carefully tracked the evolution, speed, and impact of the Yellow River: as a result, timely warnings about floods were given before the inundations in 1991, minimizing damage. Satellite tracking of the 1987 forest fires in Xinanlang enabled firefighters to save up to 10% of the forests from further damage. By 2000, China reported, as accomplishments of the FSW series, the mapping of the sand deposited to sea by the Yellow River (Huang He), the finding of seven mineral deposits for the Capital Iron & Steel Co., four new oilfields in Xinjiang, the completion of a general territorial survey, 80 material science experiments, and improved tomato yields of 20% with 40% reduction in disease.

A progress report was issued on the outcomes of the FSW materials processing and biology missions, such as the results of experiments from gallium arsenide superconductors. Eighteen different materials were used to develop crystals in orbit, the dominant ones being gallium and lithium. These experiments, developed by the Chinese Academy of Sciences and the Hebei Semiconductor Research Institute, found that electronic devices made from crystals in space outperformed those developed on the Earth. Space-manufactured crystals were more sensitive, carried more current, and were less prone to voltage noise or likely to suffer leakage. Tests on alloys, tellurium, and gallium arsenide yielded positive results, crystals having high purity. Space-grown gallium arsenide crystals were better and were the basis for making quality superconductor lasers.

To test the value of algae in closed-cycle systems, 17 types of algae and zooplankton were carried into orbit in a 759-cm3 incubator, some surviving well but others succumbing. Building on experiments on the Soviet Salyut orbital stations, cell cultures were brought into orbit, principally leukemia T-cells and carcinogenic

samples from human lungs, finding that their growth slowed considerably due to the combination of zero gravity and the radiation environment [18].

Eight years after the start of Zi Yuan, China introduced a new, more specialized program of Earth resources satellites, focused on the environment and disaster­warning. Called “Huanjing” in Chinese, meaning “environment”, two were launched together from Taiyuan on 7th September 2008 into a high-inchnation, Sun-synchronous orbit. The program was geared to the 74-nation intergovernmental Group on Earth Observations (GEO), 2005, led by China and the United States under the International Charter for Space and Major Disasters, 2000, intended to coordinate the supply of images to disaster-struck regions. China stated that one of its purposes was to follow land-use development, especially illegal land use by profiteers.

These were small satellites, both 475 kg and based on the standard design or bus called CAST968 (China Academy of Space Technology, 1996, “8” for the month or design number). The theory behind the “bus” idea was to develop a standardized design which could be adapted for a variety of missions, standardization lowering the cost of production. They carried four cameras: two CCD imagers of 30-m resolution and a swath of 700 km; an ultraviolet camera of 100-m resolution and a swath of 50 km; a super-spectral imager (A only); and an infrared camera of 150-m resolution and a swath of 750 km (B only). The satelhtes had a revisit orbit of four days, a crossing time of 10:30 each day, and a service life of three to five years. They were aimed at circular orbits of 649 km at 98°, similar to the Yaogan (below), but lower than the maritime observation satellite, Haiyang, at 798 km (below). Data transmission rates were 120 МВ/sec (A) and 60 МВ/sec (B). Data were sent to the China Resource Satellite Application Centre, completed in 2008, which also handled CBERS.

First images were received on 9th September 2008 and the satellites were declared operational on 20th March 2009. Within a year, 510,000 images had been provided for the Ministry of Environmental Protection and a further 70,000 for other registered users. In the area of disaster relief, the satellites provided imaging that was used for two great snows (Tibet and the north), earthquakes (e. g. Wenchuan), forest fires (Australia), a mud slide (Chongqing Wulong), river flood (river Huai, Yellow River), and frozen seas (e. g. Bohai). The photographs were especially useful in identifying transport routes whereby rehef can be provided. The Huanjings also followed algal blooms, water sediment levels in rivers, risks of water contamination, sand storms, air pollution, straw-burning, and oil spills, both for environmental protection and subsequent law enforcement. Earthquake images from satellites were able to pick out collapsed buildings (red) and intact ones (green). They played an important role in mapping landslides, glacial lakes, and the Bohai Sea ice disaster of winter 2009-10. Both satelhtes were used by CEODE to give assistance to Australia during the bush fires in Victoria, Australia, in February 2009, being repositioned to fly over the disaster areas twice a day. The Huanjings beamed down 130 GB of data over the following three weeks in optical and infrared, following the intensity and direction of the fire fronts, both to assist the fire fighters and to enable residential communities to be evacuated in time. The Huanjing program has been well documented, certainly in comparison to Zi Yuan [13].

They will be followed by Huanjing 2, which will carry a microwave radiometer, microwave scatterometer, and radar altimeter. Before them, the radar will be tested by Huanjing 1C, which was first exhibited at the Zhuhai air show in 2009. Huanjing 1C is a larger 890-kg radar satellite, with 5-m resolution and a swath of 400 km, able to make four-day revisits. Ultimately, according to the Academy of Sciences’ long-term plan for space development, Roadmap 2050, China’s objective is to build data on climate changes across up to 20 parameters (e. g. methane, ice and

– 7l) o’ XO O’ 00 O’ 100 O’ MOO’ 120 0’ l. ilMI’

00 O’ |00 ‘0’ I |0°0’ 1200′

Straw-burning detected by Huanjing. Courtesy: COSPAR China.

Map of earthquake zone, collapsed buildings, taken from Huanjing. Courtesy: COSPAR China.

snow coverage, aerosols, nitrogen oxides, land use, cloud and precipitation, forestry) so as to construct a reference model of climate systems and climate change. This will be fed by next-generation three-dimensional microwave sensing technology to measure the oceans, salinity, rain, vegetation, and the main features of land masses. The data will be stored in what is called the Digital Earth Scientific Platform, which comprises:

• a central node, called the Dawn supercomputer;

• three network nodes (Miyun (Chinese landmass), Kashi (western Asia), and Sanya (South China sea to Mekong);

• ground stations in Xian, Changchun, Shanghai, Sanya, Kunming, Lhasa, Kashi, and Urumqi;

• overseas stations in Brazil and the Zhongshan base at the South Pole;

• 18 sub-nodes, the intention being to update data through the system daily.

The series is summarized in Table 6.5.

Table 6.5. Huanjing series.

Huanjing 1A 7 Sep 2008

Huanjing IB

CZ-2C from Taiyuan.

Chapter 1 described the current stage of Chinese piloted spaceflight: the building of a basic space station. Tiangong was the culmination of a 20-year program of manned spaceflight, though one which had its roots in a precursor program as far back as the 1970s. This chapter narrates the precursor missions before manned flight (Shenzhou 1-4), the first manned flight (Shenzhou 5), the week-long flight of two astronauts (Shenzhou 6), and the first Chinese spaceflight by a three-man crew with the space walk by Zhai Zhigang (Shenzhou 7). These missions made China definitively the third spacefaring nation in the world.

ORIGINS: PROJECT 714

Like everyone else, the Chinese were greatly impressed with Yuri Gagarin’s historic flight into space on 12th April 1961, which spurred the Academy of Sciences into holding a series of symposia starting that summer. Twelve meetings were held between then and 1964, organized by Tsien Hsue Shen. Their purpose was to keep in touch with developments abroad and discuss how a manned and deep-space exploration program could best be organized in the distant future. Tsien’s book, An Introduction to Interplanetary Flight (1963, Science Press, Beijing), the basis for instruction of all engineers in the space program, included a chapter on manned spaceflight. So the idea of a manned flight was there from the very beginning.

China followed the Soviet practice of making vertical flights with biological cargoes and animals (the first dogs flew into the upper atmosphere from Russia in July 1951). China first fired a biological container 70 km high on the T-7AS-1 sounding rocket on 19th July 1964, with a complement of four white rats, four white mice, and 12 biological test tubes with fruit flies and other test items, their behavior and reactions followed by a camera. Two further missions flew on 1st and 5th June 1965. The rocket was then adapted as the T-7AS-2 to take dogs and fly to an altitude of up to 115 km. The carrying of a dog required a much more advanced life-support system, but, as a precaution against a delayed recovery, arrangements were made for a pressure valve to be released during the descent to let in fresh air. During the flight, the dog’s heartbeat, temperature, respiration, and breathing rates would be

measured by a tape recorder and radiation dosage measured. The first mission duly took place on 15th July 1966, with China’s first space dog, Xiao Bao (“little leopard” in Chinese). An Air Force helicopter crew spotted the descending cabin and a happy, tail-wagging dog was quickly retrieved. A bitch, Shan Shan (“coral” in Chinese), followed on 28th July. Plans were under way to fly a monkey that September, but the cultural revolution intervened and the mission did not take place.

A conference of scientists, engineers, and political leaders held on 4th March 1966 laid down the broad lines of future space development, especially the artificial satellite project (project 651, Chapter 2) and proposals for a recoverable satellite (project 911, Chapter 4). We now know that there was also a closed session in which the idea of a manned spacecraft was discussed at the Jingxi Hotel, parallel to the main space conference. The National Defence Science Committee COSTIND (see Chapter 3) formed a three-strong committee to develop the concept. The committee spent 20 days working out the aims, objectives, and methods of a Chinese manned flight, after which it filed a 20-page report. It was decided that, if the recoverable satellite project went well, a manned program would follow and was assigned the name of Shuguang, or “dawn” – a title decided in January 1968.

In April 1968, the government took a decisive step by setting up the Institute of

Space Medicine in north-west Beijing (originally it was called the Space Medicine Project Research Institute and it has also been identified as the Research Centre into Physiological Reactions in Space and Institute of Medical Engineering in Space) and Tsien Hsue Shen was made the first assistant director. The center was equipped with acceleration chairs, pressure chambers, centrifuges, and revolving chairs. The institute was to remain permanently in existence, despite the subsequent ups and downs of the manned program. Its continued operation was one of the main reasons why Chinese denials concerning a manned space program were never entirely convincing.

Tsien Hsue Shen asked COSTIND and the Air Force to recruit China’s first group of astronauts to train to fly the first manned mission. They followed the Soviet practice of recruiting from young Air Force pilots with a perfect medical record, rated on their psychological stability and ability to act calmly under pressure. Selection began on 5th October 1970. A thousand pilots were sent to the new Institute of Space Medicine for screening. Like their Russian counterparts, they were not initially told the real purpose of the tests, although they guessed soon enough, especially when they were flown on weightless trajectories in specially adapted aircraft. When they were shown films about Soviet manned spaceflight, they knew for certain. Their numbers were whittled down from 88 to 20 on 15th March 1971. China thus became the third country in the world to select an astronaut squad. The process was so secret that no one, apart from those immediately involved, knew about this at the time or for another 30 years. In the event, one of the 20 left almost immediately but we do know the names of the 19 others (Table 8.1). They reported for duty on 13 th May 1971.

All were bom over the years 1934 (the same as Yuri Gagarin) to 1948. They were all pilots and some had risen to the ranks of squadron or divisional commander. Most were Chinese MiG pilots and some had shot down American planes over

Vietnam or American drones over China itself. The final squad of 19 was called “project 714”, after the year and month that confirmed their selection (April 1971), and the term seems to have been eventually applied to the whole project. Project 714 was assigned 500 support workers, from supervisors to trainers and guards. It was intended that the first flight would take place at the end of 1973. Instructors were brought in from the universities in such subjects as physics, sciences, rocketry, and English. A British Trident aircraft was obtained from China’s civilian airline, CAAC, for weightlessness training.

Shuguang was approved by Chairman Mao on 14th July 1970 and guided by his defense minister Lin Biao. No sooner than had their training got under way than the project was affected by a bizarre political crisis, though not one atypical of the cultural revolution. On 13th September 1971, Minister of Defence Lin Biao died when his jet crashed in Mongolia after what was seen at the time as a failed coup attempt. By sheer chance, Lin Biao’s plotters had used the same code number, “project 714”, as the signal for the coup and, in the paranoid atmosphere, the spaceflight project came under suspicion. There were further difficulties. Because the

project was a secret one, they found it difficult to commandeer resources. The initial equipment of the squad comprised only one car and one telephone. Budgets were underestimated and they had difficulty getting flying time from the Air Force. Conditions were difficult, but they had the benefit of classes from no less a person than Tsien Hsue Shen himself. The following spring, Mao Zedong declared that Earthly needs must come first. The 19 astronauts returned to their Air Force units and, on 13th May 1972, the last standing staff member of project 714 left the office and turned out the lights. The furthest it got was building a wood and cardboard spacecraft mockup and preparing some space food in toothpaste tubes.

Granted that the first successful recoverable mission flew in 1975, the earliest a manned Chinese spaceflight could have taken place would have been the late 1970s. The FSW would have been a tight fit for an astronaut – but it was actually bigger than the capsule in which John Glenn circled the Earth for America’s first orbital flight. The FSW-style of re-entry, a sudden, sharp, diving re-entry over Sichuan, would have given him a rough, but survivable, return to the Earth.

Even without a manned space program, the Institute of Space Medicine continued its work. It actually expanded to 60 technical staff who carried out work in space medicine, suits, food, and equipment. By way of a postscript to the project, as part of a medical test, the Institute for Space Medicine contacted all the members of the astronaut group 30 years later. All were still in good health and none had developed illnesses, such as cancer. Most now held high ranks in the Air Force. They had chosen well. In October 2009, it was revealed that China’s first astronaut would have been Fang Guojun, aged 33 at the time. He was photographed and interviewed in the Chinese press. He was allowed to break his vow of secrecy many years after the program itself was made public knowledge in 2001. Yang Liwei later responded to his congratulatory letter and acknowledged the work of his pioneer group. Chief designer of Shuguang was Tu Shancheng, bom in 1923 in Jiaxin, Zhejiang, later a graduate of Cornell University. After the project closed, he went on to the development of the first communications satellite, program 863, and the feasibility studies of what eventually became the first manned flight.

It was hardly a surprise that Mars followed closely behind the Moon in Chinese deep-space ambitions. In summer 2003, China Academy of Sciences Centre for Space Science and Applied Research expert Liu Zhenxing reported that Mars had been examined as part of a project 863 planetary exploration study. The first phase in this study had been a look at the exploration of Mars to date by other countries and the results obtained. This had helped the researchers to draw up some initial possible objectives for Mars exploration science and some outline spacecraft designs. Liu Zhenxing ventured the opinion that China should now examine the key technologies for unmanned Mars exploration, such as the calculation of orbits, appropriate launch systems, and a deep-space tracking network. Again, this suggested an approach similar to the new Moon project: theoretical studies, followed by a debate about the range and scale of possibilities, followed by the hardening of decisions into a concrete project. A series of scientific papers on flights to the planets began to appear in the universities from the late 1990s [16]. The model of a small spacecraft to orbit Mars was pictured in the Shanghai Daily in May 2005.

Russia provided an early opportunity for China to send a small spacecraft to

Mars. Ever since Mars 8 had crashed into the Pacific in 1996, Russia had been trying to return to Mars exploration and, after many false starts (mainly due to financial problems), had prepared a mission to bring samples back from Mars’s tiny moon Phobos, called Phobos Sample Return. For the Russians, there was a big attraction if China were to join the project, for the Chinese would bring a cash contribution, smoothing out Russia’s financial problems and making the eventual departure of the mission much more certain. Although the Chinese involvement made the mission a little more complicated, this was outweighed by the scientific gain and their funding. At a late stage, speciahsts in the Hong Kong Polytechnic University in China also contributed a 400-g device to grind Phobos rock for in situ analysis by the Russian lander.

Thus, an agreement was signed on 26th March 2007: Phobos Sample Return would carry a 115-kg satellite attached to its side, called Yinghuo 1, “Yinghuo” being the ancient Chinese astronomical word for Mars, also known as the “glittering planet” and the Chinese word for “firefly”. The role of Yinghuo was carefully chosen. Its formal objectives were to investigate the Martian magnetosphere, plasma distribution, the interaction of the solar wind with Mars, and the gravity field, and make a determination as to why Mars lost its water. According to the director general of the National Space Science Centre, Wu Ji, most recent missions had concentrated on the follow-the-water-to-find-life approach, meaning that the Martian atmosphere had been neglected. The planned mission would fly well ahead of the small American Mars Atmosphere and Volatile Evolution (MAVEN) spacecraft, not due for launch until 2013. Yinghuo’s study of the atmosphere could give important clues as to the planet’s climatic history and why water had disappeared from the surface.

The mission profile was that, three orbits after Phobos Sample Return arrived in its initial Mars elliptical equatorial orbit of 800-80,000 km, 72.8 hr, 0.7°, it would detach Yinghuo at a separation speed of 2 m/sec. Phobos Sample Return would then maneuver to meet Phobos at 9,700-km altitude. Russia and China would calibrate their instruments together and receive reports on the ionosphere from their two spacecraft simultaneously in quite different orbits, giving them an additional scientific bonus. Yinghuo’s orbit was set to make an ellipse through the plasmasheet in the Martian tail, swing around the side of Mars, and pass through the bow shock and magnetosheath on the sunward side. Their joint mission would last two years. Yinghuo would remain in the orbit where it was detached (800-80,000 km) but it was one likely to be perturbed over time by solar radiation and the non-spherical shape of Mars to reach an inclination of between 21.7° and 36°. Wherever it went, it was intended to use ground stations in Shanghai, Beijing, Kunming, and Urumqi to follow its orbit to a precision of 100 m. China also obtained permission to use both the ESA and Russian deep-space tracking networks. Just as the Chinese used a communications satellite as the basis for their first lunar probe, this time they used a miniaturized version of the ocean observation satellite, Haiyang, adapted as a small spacecraft measuring 75 x 75 x 60 cm. Yinghuo had a 950-mm x-band dish for communications, a 12-W transmitter on 8.4 and 7.17 GHz with a data rate of 8­16 kps, and two solar arrays each of three sections and 5.6 m across, generating 90­180 W. The instruments are listed in Table 9.3.

Table 9.3. Yinghuo instruments.

Wide field-of-view camera: 200-m resolution, weight 1.3 kg Satellite-to-satellite radio occultation sounder, weight 3 kg Fluxgate magnetometer, range 256 nT, weight 2.5 kg Plasma package

Ion analyzer (two): range 20 eV to 15 keV Electron analyzer: range 20 eV to 15 keV

The camera was tested out extensively on the ground and images were taken of our own Moon to verify its capabilities. At 80,000 km out, Mars would fill most of the field, but, at close approach, it would image terrain of 525-729 km. The camera was not intended for mapping (the spacecraft would not have the capacity) but to monitor sandstorms and for “public outreach”. The magnetometer was located at the end of the solar panel, 3.2 m from the center of the spacecraft, with two sensors 45 cm apart. The plasma instruments comprised two identical ion analyzers in the range 0.02-10 keV, measuring both its present level and escape rate. The joint occultation experiment with Phobos Sample Return spacecraft was one of the most unusual. Here, Phobos Sample Return would transmit a signal on 416.5 MHz and 833 MHz to a receiver on Yinghuo: as the signals penetrated the Martian ionosphere, their frequency shift would make it possible to characterize its features and measure its electron density. Typically, the signaling sessions would take place when the two spacecraft were at opposite ends of their orbits behind Mars, so as to

get the flattest possible angle over the Martian atmosphere. Another experiment was designed to test the finding of the Soviet probe Phobos 2 that there was a dust ring around Mars, trailing behind the moon Phobos and, if so, its cause [17].

In advance of the mission, the spacecraft underwent a series of tests for vibration, noise, vacuum conditions, illumination, solar array deployment, and power systems. Yinghuo arrived in Moscow in time for its October 2009 launch. Although the Chinese satellite provided additional resources for the project, scientists became more and more nervous as they tried to integrate the two spacecraft in time for launch less than two months ahead. At the last team review of the project a month before launch, it was decided to delay the project until the next launch window two years later. This was not the only such project delayed, for America’s Mars Science Laboratory, Curiosity, was similarly postponed to 2011 while at an advanced stage.

Phobos Sample Return was eventually launched at night on 8th November on the Zenit 2SB, entering a parking orbit of 206-341 km, 51.4°. The solar orbit insertion burn did not take place and the 13,500-kg stage, the main part of which was fuel, remained stubbornly stuck in Earth orbit. Every day for two weeks, the spacecraft computer commanded preparations for the Mars insertion burn over South America, orientated the spacecraft, and made a pre-firing maneuver. Each time, though, the control system shut the system down just before the burn, which never took place, but the pre-bum maneuver had the effect of gradually raising its orbit while simultaneously exhausting its fuel. At one stage, ESA made contact with Phobos Sample Return through its tracking station in AustraUa, but Russian ground controllers were never able to do so and override the fault on their system. The spacecraft eventually crashed into the Pacific off the coast of Chile in January. An enquiry blamed a badly designed computer control system with poor components, compounded by a communications system that could only work in deep space (and not in low Earth orbit), exacerbated by the lack of marine tracking systems at the critical point of the Mars injection bum over South America. It was a sickening re­run of the earlier Mars 8 failure.

The Chinese did their best to hide their disappointment at this outcome to such a cleverly constructed mission, costing them their first chance to get data back from Mars. After the crash, the director general of the National Space Science Centre, Wu Ji, spoke of how China hoped to be able to contribute a mission four years later, during the 2015 window, but it would now have to follow objectives different from MAVEN. In reconsidering their plans, the Chinese indicated that they would go the three-step route of orbiter-lander/rover-sample return, much as they had on the Moon. Increasing numbers of planning papers were published, on the best trajectories to follow and course corrections, for example. Project 863 funding was made available to study trajectories, navigation, sensors, antennae, and long­distance communications. Aerobraking systems were simulated. The Beijing Institute for Mechanical and Space Engineering (institute §508) tested airbags, a six-bag system being favored. Work also began on the radars, indicating a preference for the more precise but sophisticated and difficult method of a powered descent [18].

The outcome was a proposal to government for a Mars 2015 mission, using a DFH communications satellite, with aerobraking to enter the desired pre-landing orbit. The proposal to government was for a 2,000-kg orbiter with a small demonstration lander, with a CZ-3B launch in 2015, arrival in 2016, and operations until 2018. Following aerobraking, the orbiter’s planned path was an elliptical polar one with a low point of 300 km. Its purpose would be to explore the environment of Mars and analyze the chemical composition of its surface. The planned payloads were a camera, surface – penetrating radar, infrared spectrometer, gamma-ray spectrometer, high-energy particle detector, and solar wind particle detector, transmitting information back on two x-band antennae. The demonstration lander, which was in the shape of an aeroshell, would be 50 kg and parachute a rocket down to a semi-soft landing at the southern fringes of the arctic with the intention of functioning three to five days on the surface sending back information on a UHF antenna [19]. Three landing sites were selected on the southern fringes of the Martian arctic.

Exploratory studies have already been made of other possible Mars missions. Yuan Yong and his colleagues in the Aerospace System Engineering Institute of Shanghai outlined the idea of a Mars penetrator. The idea was to use a satellite like Yinghuo, equip it with two 50-kg penetrators, 90-120 cm long and 15-20 cm wide, and launch it on a CZ-3B. A parachute would open at 17 km, slowing the spacecraft until it was dropped at 2 km. Although the penetrator would impact at between 80 and 100 m/sec, it should be possible to design it to withstand impact forces of up to 10,000 G. Its objective would be to, over 10 Mars sols, image the surface, provide meteorological data, probe the physical and mechanical characteristics of the regolith, and look for water and life. Landing sites were under consideration at both the arctic (better for water) and equator (better for life). The penetrator would carry a descent camera, panoramic camera, thermometer, and sound recorder. In anticipation of the mission, China commissioned another overseas tracking dish in Nequen, Patagonia, Argentina, in 2012.

Meantime, Yao Kerning and his colleagues at the Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics sketched an aircraft that would travel in Mars’s thin atmosphere. Aircraft designs and possible flight paths – 650 km straighthne and 100 km rectangular – were mapped in the region 28-36°S and longitude 187-191° [20]. American engineers had originally promoted such a mission as far back as the 1970s, but they had never managed to attract funding. Worse, by 2012, the American Mars program was in disarray, with budget cuts forcing NASA to abandon or delay future collaborative Mars missions.