FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE (BUT SEND MONEY FIRST)

Cooperating with Russia in space may prove less than a bargin

The collapse of the Soviet Union brought a lot of opportunity to the troubled
nation's weary citizens, to its ground-breaking governing officials--and to the
U.S. space community. Many in U.S. government and industry alike rejoiced at the
opening of what they saw as a treasure chest, holding opportunities almost
beyond number.

It didn't take long for U.S. companies and government agencies to move in. Among
the first was U.S. engine manufacturer Pratt & Whitney; after getting a contract
to supply engines for the big Ilyushin-96 transport plane, the firm teamed with
Russia's biggest rocket manufacturer, Energomash, to consolidate the global
space-launch and spacecraft-propulsion markets. And Lockheed formed LKE
International with Moscow's Khrunichev Enterprises and NPO Energia to market
Proton rockets to commercial customers.

Currently, NASA is studying adaptation of the Russian Soyuz for space-station
crew rescue and is working on integrating Russian Mir-2 space-station elements
into the space station program. NASA engineers are also considering
space-station designs that reduce dependency on the ever-more-expensive and
skittish space shuttle by using Russia's big Energia launcher to deploy station
hardware.

So what's the problem? Some U.S. strategists fear that nourishing the former
Soviet Union's technical capabilities could fuel a reemergence of former Soviet
military power, while the U.S. commercial space industry worries about unfair
competition from Russian "bargain sales." But the biggest risk faced by U.S.
partners is that they depend on critical components manufactured by an
industrial complex that seems to be falling apart at an alarming rate as the
former Soviet national economies deteriorate.

Despite these concerns, other Western Bloc space planners, dismayed by the
budget-driven vacillations of the United States in cooperative programs such as
the space station, continue to court the Russians. In November, France's
Aerospatiale signed a deal to build and market a joint French-Russian launcher
based on the venerable Vostok. In addition, a French government-industry team
kicked in several million francs to support Russian flight tests of a supersonic
combustion ramjet (scramjet) last year, a technology in which Russia has a
two-year lead on the United States.

But many of Russia's new partners are discovering they haven't struck such a
bargain. Besides soaking the European Space Agency for $52 million for two Mir
missions, the Russians charge extra for everything: $17,000 per extra kilogram
carried to the station, $53,000 for every hour cosmonauts spend over the
contracted-for two hours per day, and so on. The Russian Space Agency also
insisted--and the United States agreed--that NASA pay $100 million per year up
front for using Mir and for design work on space-station elements.

Despite the Russians' skyrocketing charges, NASA top brass, along with some
members of Congress and other administration officials, seem to believe that the
main motivation for using former Soviet space technology is to reduce costs--a
highly unlikely prospect. Integrating space systems based on different
standards, documentation practices, requirements, operating specifications, and
manufacturing and testing processes can never cost less than a single system.
Apollo-Soyuz, which required only one interface between two dissimilar
spacecraft, cost the United States nearly a half-billion 1975 dollars and took
two years to accomplish.

That doesn't mean NASA shouldn't cooperate with Russia and the other Eastern
republics. Cooperation will help sustain those nations' fragile new political
structures and at the same time bring to the West valuable technology and
capabilities. But the United States shouldn't pursue cooperation on the
questionable premise that it will save money. We certainly should cooperate, but
we need to do so with our eyes wide open.