A space station is basically a spacecraft with no propulsion. Which boils down to just the habitat module and the payload.
Like any other living system, the internal operations of a space station can be analyzed with Living Systems Theory, to discover sources of interesting plot complications.
Much like spacecraft, in a science fiction story a space station can become a character all by themselves. Examples include Babylon 5, Deep Space 9, Waystar from Andre Norton's Uncharted Stars, Supra-New York from Heinlein's Farmer in the Sky The Green Hills of Earth and Rocket Jockey, Nowhere Near from Jack Williamson's short story with the same name, Venus Equilateral from the series by George O. Smith, Thunderbird 5 from the Thunderbird TV show, Elysium from the movie of the same name. For an exhaustive list, look up Islands in the Sky: The Space Station Theme in Science Fiction Literature and The Other Side of the Sky: An Annotated Bibliography of Space Stations in Science Fiction, both by Gary Westfahl. The latter has 975 examples.
There are some science fiction stories about star systems that have no colonists living on the surface of planets. All colonists live in swarms of space station habitats. Examples include Downbelow Station by C. J. Cherryl, The Outcasts of Heaven's Belt by Joan Vinge, and the system of Glisten from the Traveller role playing game.
Oh, Werner von Braun had it all figured out in 1952. In six issues of Collier's magazine he laid out a plan to send men to Luna and Mars. First you build a space ferry as a surface to orbit cargo transport (which was the great-grandfather of the Space Shuttle). Then you use it to make a space station.
And it was going to be a beauty of a space station, too. Three decks, 250 feet in diameter, and a crew of fifty. Makes the ISS look like a tin can. This outpost in space was where the Lunar expedition fleet would be constructed.
It would pay for itself as well. Meteorologists could plot the path of storms and predict the weather with unprecedented accuracy. Radio and TV signals could be transmitted all over the globe. Not to mention observing the military activities of hostile nations.
In other words, it would be MacGuffinite.
Why was this marvel never constructed? Because some clown invented the printed circuit. Freed from the tyranny of fragile and short-lived vacuum tubes, technologists could make unmanned satellites for Meteorologists, radio and TV signals, and watching hostile militaries. Such satellites could be assembled and launched at a fraction the cost of a manned station. They also did not require constant resupply missions to keep the crew alive.
If we had followed von Braun's plan, we would have ended up with a fleet of space ferries, a titanic manned space station, a large lunar base, and men on Mars. Instead, we have four overly complicated space shuttles
near the end of their operational life that have been retired, a four man space station due to be de-orbited and destroyed in 2016, and a few bits of space trash on the Lunar surface. And we haven't been back to Luna since 1972. So it goes.
Why doesn't a space station fall down? A station is in "orbit," which is a clever way to constantly fall but never hit the ground. The ground curves away just enough so that the station never strikes it.
Actually, the International Space Station is in a low enough orbit that atmospheric drag decays its orbit. Periodically, Russian resupply rockets have to boost it higher. Otherwise it would de-orbit and burn up in re-entry. Many readers of this website are too young to remember when NASA's Skylab unexpectedly fell.
Many station designs are wheel shaped, and large wheels at that. They are wheel shaped so you can spin them for artificial gravity. They are large wheels so the rotation rate can be kept low enough so the crew does not experience nausea. This is conservatively 3 RPM, though studies suggest some can acclimate themselves to tolerate up to 10 RPM. The Collier space wheel is 250 feet in diameter and spins at 3 RPM, providing about one-third gee of artificial gravity at the rim.
Many, but not all, space stations are in orbit around a planet. An orbit is a clever way to constantly fall towards a planet but never hit the ground.
There are certain preferred orbits.
An equatorial orbit is a non-inclined orbit with respect to Terra's equator (i.e., the orbit has zero inclination to the equator, 180° inclination if retrograde). Most civilian satellites use such orbits. The United States uses Cape Canaveral Air Force Station and the Kennedy Space Center to launch into equatorial orbits.
An ecliptic orbit is a non-inclined orbit with respect to the solar system ecliptic.
An inclined orbit is any orbit that does not have zero inclination to the plane or reference (usually the equator).
A polar orbit is a special inclined orbit that goes over each pole of the planet in turn, as the planet spins below (i.e., the orbit is inclined 90° to the equator). Heinlein calls it a "ball of twine" orbit since the path of the station resembles winding string around a string ball. The advantage is that the orbit will eventually pass over every part of the planet, unlike other orbits. Such an orbit is generally used for military spy satellites, weather satellites, orbital bombardment weapons, and Google Earth. The United States uses Vandenberg Air Force Base to launch into polar orbits. Google Earth uses data from the Landsat program, whose satellites are launched from Vandenberg.
When launching from Terra, say a space station resupply cargo rocket, you want to launch due East to get the free delta V boost from Terra's rotation. So one would have expected that the International Space Station (ISS) would be in a 28.5° inclined orbit, which is the orbit you get when launching due East of Kennedy Space Center (latitude 28.5° N).
But it isn't, the ISS is in a 51.6° inclined orbit. Why? So that Russian cargo rockets from Baikonur Cosmodrome can reach it. Launching into a different inclination than the space port's latitude costs rocket propellant and reduces payload.
Changing the ISS planned inclination to 51.6° was in retrospect a very good decision. When NASA stupidly cancelled the Space Shuttle program before the replacement vehicle was online, they assured everybody that the replacement would be flying by 2014 at the latest. This would make a small three-year gap in NASA's ISS transport ability. Unfortunately and predictably when 2014 arrived NASA has not even started work on deciding which of the many proposals will be used, much less bending metal and cranking out functional rockets. This leaves NASA at the mercy of the Russians for access to the ISS, but without the Russians there would be no access at all and the station would have long ago burnt up in reentry like Skylab. But I digress.
Clever readers will say but wait! Baikonur Cosmodrome is at latitude 45.6°, should not that be the inclination?. In a perfect world, yes, but there is a problem. When a spacecraft is launched from Kennedy Space Center the lower stages fall into the Atlantic Ocean. And if something goes really wrong, the entire spacecraft can abort and ditch into the ocean as well. If Baikonur Cosmodrome did the same thing, large spent lower stage boosters and/or huge flaming aborting Russian spacecraft would crash into Mainland China, and the political situation would rapidly deteriorate. To avoid that unhappy state of affairs, Russian spacecraft launched from Baikonur go at a 51.6° inclination, so falling rocket bits will miss China.
The Russians already have an annoying problem with the lack of warm-water ports for seagoing vessels. They really dislike having much the same problem with respect to space launches. Therefore they are in negotiations for launch privileges at the ESA's Guiana Space Centre, which is optimally located quite near the Equator and to the West of the Atlantic Ocean.
Orbits around Terra (geocentric) are sometimes classified by altitude above Terra's surface:
- Low Earth Orbit (LEO): 160 kilometers to 2,000 kilometers. At 160 km one revolution takes about 90 minutes and circular orbital speed is 8 km/s. Affected by inner Van Allen radiation belt.
- Medium Earth Orbit (MEO): 2,000 kilometers to 35,786 kilometers. Also known as "intermediate circular orbit." Commonly used by satellites that are for navigation (such as Global Positioning System aka GPS), communication, and geodetic/space environment science. The most common altitude is 20,200 km which gives an orbital period of 12 hours.
- Geosynchronous Orbit (GEO): exactly 35,786 kilometers from surface of Terra (42,164 km from center of Terra). One revolution takes one sidereal day, coinciding with the rotational period of Terra. Circular orbital speed is about 3 km/s. It is jam-packed with communication satellites like sardines in a can. This orbit is affected by the outer Van Allen radiation belt.
- High Earth Orbit (HEO): anything with an apogee higher than 35,786 kilometers. If the perigee is less than 2,000 km it is called a "highly elliptical orbit."
- Lunar Orbit: Luna's orbit around Terra has a pericenter of 363,300 kilometers and a apocenter of 405,500 kilometers.
Geosynchronous Orbits (aka "Clarke orbits", named after Sir Arthur C. Clarke) are desirable orbits for communication and spy satellites because they return to the same position over the planet after a period of one sidereal day (for Terra that is about four minutes short of one ordinary day).
A Geostationary Orbit is a special kind of geosynchronous orbit that is even more desirable for such satellites. In those orbits, the satellite always stays put over one spot on Terra like it was atop a 35,786 kilometer pole. For complicated reasons all geostationary orbits have to be over the equator of the planet. In theory only three communication satellites in geostationary orbit and separated by 120° can provide coverage over all of Terra.
All telecommunication companies want their satellites in geostationary orbit, but there are a limited number of "slots" available do to radio frequency interference. Things get ugly when you have, for instance, two nations at the same longitude but at different latitudes: both want the same slot. the International Telecommunication Union does its best to fairly divide up the slots.
The collection of artificial satellites in geostationary orbit is called the Clarke Belt.
Note that geostationary communication satellites are marvelous for talking to positions on Terra at latitude zero (equator) to latitude plus or minus 70°. For latitudes from ±70° to ±90° (north and south pole) you will need a communication satellite in a polar orbit, a highly elliptical orbit , or a statite. Russia uses highly eccentric orbits since those latitudes more or less define Russia. Russian communication satellites commonly use Molniya orbits and Tundra orbits.
About 300 kilometers above geosynchronous orbit is the "graveyard orbit" (aka "disposal orbit" and "junk orbit"). This is where geosynchronous satellites are moved at the end of their operational life, in order to free up a slot. It would take about 1,500 m/s of delta V to de-orbit an old satellite, but only 11 m/s to move it into graveyard orbit. Most satellites have nowhere near enough propellant to deorbit.
Lagrangian points are special points were a space station can sit in a sort-of orbit. Lagrange point 1, 2, and 3 are sort of worthless, since objects there are only in a semi-stable position. The ones you always hear about are L4 and L5, because they have been popularized as the ideal spots to locate giant space colonies. Especially since the plan was to construct such colonies from Lunar materials to save on boost delta V costs. The important thing to remember is that the distance between L4 — Terra, L4 — Luna, and Terra — Luna are all the same (about 384,400 kilometers). Meaning it will take just as long to travel from Terra to L4 as to travel from Terra to Luna.
For a more exhaustive list of possible Terran orbits refer to NASA.
It is also possible for a satellite to stay in a place where gravity will not allow it. All it needs is to be under thrust. Which is rather expensive in terms of propellant. Dr. Robert L. Forward noted that solar sails use no propellant, so they can hold a satellite in place forever (or at least as long as the sun shines and the sail is undamaged). This is called a Statite.
If the planet has an atmosphere and the station orbits too low, it will gradually slow down due to atmospheric drag. "Gradually" up to a point, past the tipping point it will rapidly start slowing down, then burn up in re-entry. Some fragments might survive to hit the ground.
The "safe" altitude varies, depending upon the solar sunspot cycle. When the solar activity is high, the Earth's atmosphere expands, so what was a safe altitude is suddenly not so safe anymore.
NASA found this out the hard way with the Skylab mission. In 1974 it was parked at an altitude of 433 km pericenter by 455 km apocenter. This should have been high enough to be safe until the early 1980's. Unfortunately "should" meant "according to the estimates of the 11-year sunspot cycle that began in 1976". Alas, the solar activity turned out to be greater than usual, so Skylab made an uncontrolled reentry in July 1979. NASA had plans to upgrade and expand Skylab, but those plans died in a smoking crater in Western Australia. And a NOAA scientist gave NASA a savage I Told You So.
The International Space Station (ISS) orbited at an even lower at 330 km by 410 km during the Space Shuttle era, but the orbit was carefully monitored and given a reboost with each Shuttle resupply mission. The low orbit was due to the Shuttle carrying up massive components to the station.
After the Shuttle was retired and no more massive components were scheduled to be delivered, the ISS was given a big boost into a much higher 381 km by 384 km orbit. This means the resupply rockets can carry less station reboost propellant and more cargo payload.
If the planet the station orbits has a magnetic field, it probably has a radiation belt. Needless to say this is a very bad place to have your orbit located, unless you don't mind little things like a radiation dosage of 25 Severts per year. And that is for Terra, Jupiter's radiation belts are a thousand times worse. In 1973 Pioneer 11 was surprised by radiation levels around Jupiter ten times greater than NASA had predicted. This is why Pioneer did not send back photos of the moon Io since the radiation belt had fried its imaging photo polarimeter. Work on the Voyager space probe came to a screeching halt as they frantically redesigned it to cope with the radiation, but still be assembled in time for the launch window.
Terra's zone of glowing blue death is called the Van Allen radiation belts.
The Inner Belt starts at an altitude from 400 km to 1,200 km, depending on latitude, and ends at an altitude of about 6,000 km, with its most lethal area 3,500 km out. The South Atlantic Anomaly can potentially disrupt satellites in polar orbits, but usually does not pose a problem for manned spaceflights. Except for the ISS. The radiation is high-energy protons (400 MeV).
The Outer Belt ranges from 13,000 km to 60,000 km, with its most lethal area 27,000 km out. The Outer Belt is affected by solar winds, and is thus flattened to 59,500 km in the area directly between the Earth and the Sun, and extends to its maximum distance in the shadow of the Earth. The radiation is high-energy electrons (7 MeV).
A safe channel exists between the belts from 9,000 km to 11,000 km.
The Apollo missions had trajectories designed to shoot through the belts at high speed to minimize radiation exposure.
Since Terra's rotational and magnetic axes do not intersect at Terra's Center, there is a deadly spot in the inner belt called the South Atlantic Anomaly. The inner edge of the belt proper is usually 1,000 kilometers from Terra's surface, but the anomaly gets as close as 200 kilometers. Satellites and space stations need extra radiation shielding for when they periodically pass through the anomaly. The ISS has extra shielding for that reason. Astronauts have seen phosphene shooting lights in their eyeballs, laptops have crashed, control computers experience transient problems as they pass through the anomaly.
Since the Van Allen Belts will destroy expensive satellites as well, there have been proposals to drain the radiation out of the belt.
Habitable planets are great! Inhabitants have quaint expressions such as "Free as Air!"
In space, there ain't no free breathing mix. Any breathable air you either brought along or are manufacturing out of local resources. Neither of which is free, or even inexpensive. Air costs money. If you want to breathe, you have to pay.
With interplanetary tourists, the "air tax" is included in the fee for their tour package. People living in a space station have to pay their periodic air tax or suffer the consequences. This is why a space habitat is a particularly pure example of a hydralic state. Obey the people who control life support, or you'll find yourself suddenly trying to learn how to breath vacuum.
"Lurker" is a homeless destitute person living on a space station, especially a space habitat. The person figures there are opportunities on the habitat, they spend most of their money traveling to it, when they can find no jobs the money runs out, so they have no money for a space flight ticket to somewhere else. They then move to anyplace they can find in the station, much like terrestrial homeless live under bridges. The space habitat administrators cannot afford to ship the lurkers elsewhere (there are so many of them), so the problem grows. Of course the lurkers are also preyed upon by the criminal underworld.
The term was invented by J. Michael Straczynski for his TV series Babylon 5, more accurately he adapted the term. In internet forums "lurkers" are people who read the forums but do not make posts or otherwise draw attention to themselves. Straczynski noticed this phenomenon when he was discussion the proposed TV show on GEnie, Compuserve, and Usenet back in the early 1990's. He thought the invisible forum lurkers were a good metaphor for the invisible homeless people on the Babylon 5 space station.
Michael Hutson pointed out to me that this actually happens in places like Hawaii, which require lots of money to leave. The destitute tend to accumulate in Hawaii since they cannot afford the air fair to leave and go somewhere else. And the Hawaiian government certainly cannot afford to give them free plane tickets.
The rules and societal norms on a space habitat are going to be different than here on Terra.
In the Albedo Anthropomorphics universe of Steve Gallacci, one has a cluster of planets colonized by slower-than-light starships (yes, the colonists are furry anthropomorphic animals, but that is beside the point). The planetary cultures that were founded as a consequence have a "shipboard discipline mentality."
Consider, on a spacecraft, if a civilian saw something like an air leak in the hull, and didn't report it to anybody, they would be endangering not only their own life but also the lives of everybody on the colony ship. So that is a crime.
In the United States on the other hand, if a person sees somebody lying injured on the side of the road, and they try to help the injured one, more often than not they wind up being sued by the injured person. Hands off, do not get involved, it is not your problem.
In the Albedo universe, with the shipboard discipline mentality, it is a crime not to try and help somebody who is injured, and there are "Good Samaritan" laws to protect the helpers.
Naturally such a shipboard discipline mentality will rule a society living inside a space habitat, since such a habitat is pretty much a huge spaceship. Even more so, a civilian not bothering to report an air leak on a habitat is endangering many more people than on a spaceship. By several orders of magnitude.
In John Varley's Gaea Trilogy, there are some corporations that wait for the 3-gen rule to kill a habitat. Then they swoop in, take possession, vent it to vacuum to sterilize it, and then sell it to some other idealistic group as a unique fixer-upper opportunity.
A more long-term problem is that of Technological Decline. As Joan Vinge pointed out in THE OUTCASTS OF HEAVEN'S BELT: If a planetary colony falls into barbarism, everybody reverts to a non-technological agrarian society.
If an asteroid civilization falls into barbarism, everybody dies.
It takes lots of technology to run the oxygen system, airlocks, spaceships, hydroponics, nuclear reactors, and other items vital for life in space. No technology, no life. In other words, they are a Hydraulic state.
To which I would add:
As the traffic around a given planet or space station grows and as the energy contained in spacecraft fuel becomes more dangerous, at some point the authorities are not going to allow the presence of broken-down junker spaceships with sub-standard antimatter containment tanks. Not around our planet you ain't, Captain Han Solo.
The Spacecraft Inspectors will give all spacecraft a periodic once-over, to keep the spacecraft's certification current.
Naturally a given space station could have several functions.
Mr. Cambias goes on to note that stations can occupy a variety of orbits. Low planetary orbit just above the planet's atmosphere. High planetary orbit at thousands of kilometers. Geosynchronous / Geostationary planetary orbit at an altitude where the orbital period equals one planetary day (useful for communication, observation, powersat, and meteorology). Stellar orbit where the station orbits the local star instead of orbiting a planet. And Trojan orbits where the station occupies a Lagrange point (beloved of L5 colonies)
The size of a station has many terms, none of which are defined. In arbitrary order of size the terms include Beacon (like an interstellar lighthouse), Outpost, Station, Base, and Colony.
If a spacecraft is flying far away from anything else, and only has weak rockets fueled by puny chemical fuels or innocuous solar panels, nobody cares if the ship is a hunk-of-junk suffering from decades of deferred maintenance. If it blows up, that's too bad about the people on board, but it's their problem.
Things change radically in the more civilized areas of space. In the crowded orbital space around a heavily populated planet, with dozens of space stations, zillions of expensive satellites, hundreds of other spacecraft in tight traffic lanes, and ship using antimatter fuel; the authorities will demand that all spacecraft be up to code with perfect maintenance records.
This means periodic inspections by the Spacecraft Agency, in order for the ships to keep their certification current. No certification means the ship ain't allowed in our orbital space.
For example, in the US, this is the responsibility of the Federal Aviation Administration's Aviation Safety Inspectors. They inspect aircraft and related equipment for airworthiness. They are a Designated Airworthiness Representative (DAR), appointed in accordance with 14 CFR 183.33 who may perform examination, inspection, and testing services necessary to the issuance of certificates. There are two types of DARs: manufacturing, and maintenance. The maintenance type are the ones inspecting aircraft.
The manufacturing type inspect the aircraft before it is even made. Aircraft require a type certificate to signify the airworthiness of an aircraft manufacturing design. This means it is almost impossible to certify an aircraft built from blueprints that lack a type certificate. Or built from no blueprints at all.
The thought occured to some people (most notably Gerard O'Neill) that if the delta-V cost for traveling up and down a planet's gravity well is so expensive, the expense can be avoided if you simply live in space inside a titanic space station. The classic "L5 Colony" was about 32 km long, and held 10,000 inhabitants. Such a colony could earn its keep by harvesting solar energy or with other more shady revenue streams. A quick Google search on "L5 Colony" will reveal a wealth of details.
And if you stick an engine on the end, you have a Generation Starship
It sounds very utopian, and it is.
Now, in a Rocketpunk future, when space stations are dotted over the entire solar system (or even the entire galaxy), they might start out as being just a tiny habitat functioning as a Transport Nexus. Yes, they may start as glorified airplane terminals, but they can become more than that. Space stations near research sites can become college towns, ones near mining sites can become mining towns. Then along will come people willing to import and sell things to the inhabitants, and suddenly you've got a city. Think about the TV show Babylon 5, about a space station at the intersection of interstellar transport routes between several star nations. Started as an outer space bus terminal, but grew to become a center of trade and diplomacy.
If the space city has its own revenue stream, it can go even further, and become an independent city state or station-republic. At some point they will be growing fast enough to justify investing in the construction of a full sized L5 colony.
But remember what Thucydides said above about devolution. If the space city's revenue stream dries up, the city becomes a slum, or even a ghost town. Especially if the space city is a boomtown, there to supply a fine selection of expensive vices to the local asteroid gold strike or orbit guard military base. If the strike dries up or the base is relocated, the space city will die and become a ghost town.
Space habitats appear in science fiction in the Mobile Suit Gundam Wing animes, C. J. Cherryh's Alliance-Union novels, Alexis Gilliland's Rosinante trilogy, George Zebrowski's Macrolife, John Varley's Gaea Trilogy, Sir Arthur C. Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama, and the tv series Babylon 5.
One problem is that you cannot make a small O'Neill cylinder as a pilot project to gain the expertise to build a full size one, due to the nausea caused by the Coriolis effect. Your first one has to be full sized.
A space colony is a particularly pure example of a hydralic state because Air Is Not Free. If citizens make angry the powers-that-be (defined as "the people who control life support), said citizens will suddenly find themselves trying to breath vacuum. Obey or die. The way to avoid this is with massively redundant life support infrastructure, in an attempt to decentralize control. Of course this only means you do not have to obey the space colony boss, just obey the boss of the segment you live in.
In C.J. Cherryh's Alliance-Union universe, none of the interstellar colonies are actually on an extrasolar planet. Instead they are space habitats in orbit around various lifeless planets (with the exception of Pell). The glaring unanswered question is if you are not going to be using the extrasolar planets, why did you go to the insane expense of using slower-than-light technology to create space habitats in other stellar systems? It would have been about a million times cheaper to just build the habitats somewhere in our own solar system.
If one is colonizing other stellar systems with slower-than-light starships, mass is at a premium. The expense of delta-Ving every microgram up to insterstellar velocities then braking to a halt means you won't be able to carry much of anything. It requires much lower mass to carry the needs for a colony on a human-habitable planet as compared to carrying the industrial machinery required to construct kilometer-long L5 colonies. In fact, such a colony ship might not even carry full grown colonists.
Naturally if you postulate FTL starships, all bets are off. Then it simply becomes a matter of transport costs.
This may or may not boil down to Space Habitats initially being unique to Terra's solar system.
Larry Niven popularized the "asteroid bubble" technique of creating a huge space habitat. Andrew Love notes that if the asteroid is made of stone, once you start to spin it for artificial gravity it will immediately fly into pieces. As he puts it "there are no stone suspension bridges". Stone is heavy and weak, particularly in tension. A 100 meter external radius asteroid made of granite and spun up to 1 gee would put the granite under stresses about twice the expected strength of granite.
You will note that Larry Niven specifies a asteroid composed of nickle-iron.
Many early SF stories fret about the military advantage an armed space station confer upon the owning nation. Heinlein says trying to fight a space station (or orbiting spacecraft) from the ground is akin to a man at the bottom of a well conducting a rock-throwing fight with somebody at the top. One power-crazed dictator with a nuclear bomb armed station could rule the world! Space faring nations would need space scouts for defense.
But most experts nowadays say that turns out not to be the case. A nation can threaten another with nuclear annihilation far more cheaply with a few ICBMs, no station is required. And while ground launching sites can hide in rugged terrain, a space station can hide nowhere. Pretty much the entire facing hemisphere can attack the station with missiles, laser weapons, and propaganda.
Phil Shanton points out that you don't need a huge missile to destroy an orbiting space station, either. In 1979, the U.S. Air Force awarded a contract to the Vought company to develop an anti-satellite missile. It was not a huge missile from a large launch site. It was a relatively small missile launched by an F-15 Eagle interceptor in a zoom-climb. Vought developed the ASM-135 Anti-Satellite Missile (ASAT), and on 13 September 1985 it successfully destroyed the solar observatory satellite "P78-1". This means that an evil-dictator world-dominator nuke-station not only has to worry about every ground launch site, but also every single fighter aircraft.
It has also been modeled that the U.S. Navy could take out a satellite with a Standard Missile 3.
Things are different, of course if the situation is an extraplanetary fleet that remotely bombs the planet to destroy all the infrastructure. The fleet can construct a space superiority platform while the planet is struggling to rebuild its industrial base. Then the platform can bomb any planetary site that is getting too advanced in rebuilding. This is known as "not letting the weeds grow too tall.
As long as there have existed naval vessels and bubonic plague, there has been a fear that arriving ships might bring a cargo of the Black Death.
When the plague ravaged 14th century Europe, the city state of Venice decreed that arriving ships had to anchor away from the city for 40 days before they could unload passengers or cargo. 40 days was considered long enough so that infected people aboard would either have blatantly obvious symptoms or be dead. The Italian term quaranti giorni means '40 days'. The term evolved into the word "Quarantine".
Within our solar system currently there does not seem to be any extraterrestrial life, and thus no extraterrestrial plagues. The operative word is seem. Under the Extra-Terrestrial Exposure Law NASA quarantined the astronauts from Apollo 11 through 14 for 21 days, just in case they brought back the Andromeda Strain or something. NASA stopped bothering after Apollo 14 since no space germ was ever found.
- Terrestrial disease germs might become mutated into virulent new strains by the high-radiation space environment
- There is a chance that life can be found in such places as the oceans of Europa and other icy moons
- If your science fiction universe has faster-than-light starships capable of traveling to life-bearing extrasolar planets, all bets are off.
Space station and space port medical officers must be vigilant to detect signs of pandemic diseases in incoming passengers or crew, such patients must be immediately quarantined. A quarantine facility will need to be hermetically sealed, with the only available access through decontamination airlocks.
You will also need a quarantine if the space station contains a laboratory working on dangerous technology. Things like civilization-destroying biowarfare plagues or planet-eating nanotechnology.
James Snead has written a few paper about space infrastructure. Most interesting is Architecting Rapid Growth in Space Logistics Capabilities. On page 23 he gives an example of an orbiting space logistics base, including a space dock. Refer to that document for larger versions of the images below.
...the space logistics base’s functions are: (1) housing for travelers and operating crews; (2) emergency care; (3) in-space assembly, maintenance, and repair; and (4) materiel handling and storage.
The example space logistics base consists of four elements. At the top in Fig. 10 is the mission module providing the primary base control facility, emergency medical support, and crew and visitor quarters. The personnel quarters are located inside core propellant tanks that are retained from the SHS used to launch the mission module. The overall length of the mission module and propellant tanks is approximately 76 m (250 ft). Solar arrays and waste heat radiators (shown cut-away in Fig. 10) are mounted on a framework surrounding the mission module to provide additional radiation and micrometeoroid protection.
The second element consists of twin space hangars. These serve as airlocks for receiving spaceplanes and provide a pressurized work bay for conducting on-orbit maintenance of satellites and space platforms.
As shown in Fig. 11, the space hangar consists of a structural cylindrical shell 10 m (33 ft) in diameter, a forward pressure bulkhead containing the primary pressure doors, and an aft spherical work bay. These elements, which define the primary structure, would be manufactured as a single unit and launched as the payload of an SHS. The large, nonpressurized, space debris protection doors would be temporarily mounted inside the hangar for launch and then demounted and installed during the final assembly of the hangar at the LEO construction site. All of the other hangar components would be sized for transport to orbit in the cargo module of the RLVs and then taken through the hangar’s primary pressure doors for installation.
Future logistics supportability is a key feature of this hangar design. The size, weight, location, and access of the internal hangar components enables them to be inspected, repaired, and replaced without affecting the primary structural / pressure integrity of the hangar. With the exception of the space debris protection doors, this would be done inside the hangar when it is pressurized. The ISS-type airlock and space debris protection doors, although mounted externally, would be demounted and brought into the hangar for inspection, maintenance, and repair. For the repair of the primary pressure doors, they would be demounted and taken into the spherical work bay or the other hangar for servicing.
The hangar’s design enables both pressurized and unpressurized hangar operations to be undertaken simultaneously. When the main hangar deck is depressurized to receive cargo or spaceplanes, for example, pressurized maintenance operations would continue inside the 9.8 m (32 ft) diameter spherical work bay and the 2.8 m (9 ft ) diameter x 4.3 m (14 ft ) work compartments arranged along the top of the hangar.
Hangar operations in support of the passenger spaceplanes, as shown in Fig. 12, highlight the improvement in on-orbit logistics support enabled by the large hangars. After entry into and repressurization of the hangar, the passengers would disembark from the spaceplane. Support technicians, working in the hangar’s shirtsleeve environment, would inspect the spaceplane and, in particular, the thermal protection system for any damage to ensure that it is ready for its return to the Earth. While at the space base, the spaceplane would remain in the hangar to protect it from micrometeoroid or space debris damage. Minor repairs to the spaceplane could also be undertaken to ensure flight safety.
The third element is the air storage system. The prominent parts of this system are the large air storage tanks that are the reused core propellant tanks from the two SHS used to launch the twin space hangars. Besides storing air from the hangars, this system also: manages the oxygen, carbon dioxide, and moisture levels; removes toxic gases, vapors, and particulates; and, controls the temperature and circulation of the air within the hangar and its compartments.
The fourth and final element is the space dock. It would be constructed from structural truss segments assembled within the space hangars using components transported to orbit in the RLVs. The space dock would provide the ability to assembly and support large space logistics facilities, such as the space hotels and large manned spacecraft described in the following. It could also used to store materiel and as a mount for additional solar arrays.
The space hangars and space dock would enable traditional logistics operations of maintenance, assembly, and resupply to be routinely conducted in Earth orbit. This is an enabling capability necessary to become spacefaring and achieve mastery of operations in space.
The space logistics base would have approximately 20 personnel assigned. The tour of duty would be 90 days with half of the crew rotating every 45 days. Crew rotation and base resupply would require approximately 32 RLV missions per year per base with 8 spaceplane missions and 24 cargo missions. This would provide approximately 12,000 kg (26,000 lb) of expendables and spares per person per year. At $37M per mission, a ROM estimate of the annual transportation support cost per base would be approximately $1.2B.
While the LEO space logistics base would have sufficient housing capacity to support the 20 assigned personnel and a modest number of transient visitors, it would not be a primary housing facility. Since people cannot simply pitch a tent and “camp out” in space, establishing early permanent housing facilities is an important and enabling element of opening the space frontier to expanded human operations. The architecture of the Shuttle-derived heavy spacelifter and the LEO space logistics base was selected so that the first large space housing complexes, referred to as space hotels, could be constructed using the same space logistics base modules.
A composite illustration of the design, assembly, and deployment of the example space hotel is shown in Fig. 13. This hotel design is configured as a hub and spoke design with a long central hub and opposing sets of spokes attached to the central hub module. This configuration makes it possible to use variants of the space base’s mission modules and space hangars as the primary elements of the space hotel’s design.
Element 1, in Fig. 13, shows the start of the hotel assembly sequence. The central hub module, shown with the SHS’s core propellant tanks still attached, is being positioned at the space logistics base’s space dock. The central hub module would be a version of the mission module used in the space logistics base. Its design would include 12 docking ports around its circumference for attaching the spokes.
Element 2 shows the completed hub and one attached spoke. Two space hangars are located at the ends of the hub and the first spoke is shown attached to the central hub module. In assembling the hub, the core propellant tanks from the two SHS missions used to launch the hangars would be incorporated into the hub to provide additional pressurized volume. This approach would be also used for the spokes. Each spoke would consist of a generalpurpose mission module with the SHS’s core propellant tanks reused for additional pressurized volume. As with the mission module on the space logistics base, the spokes would be surrounded by solar arrays and waste heat radiators. This is what provides their “boxy” appearance.
Element 3 shows the completed 100-person space hotel with two pairs of spokes on opposing sides of the hub. This is the baseline space hotel configuration. Seven SHS missions would be required to launch the hub and spoke modules for the baseline hotel. One additional SHS cargo mission would be used for the solar arrays and waste heat radiators.
This design enables the hotel to be expanded to 6, 8, 10, or 12 spokes. Each spoke would require one additional SHS mission. The 12-spoke configuration would accommodate up to approximately 300 people. Each additional spoke would be tailored to provide a specific capability, such as research and development facilities, tourist quarters, office space, retail space, etc.
Element 4 shows the completed space hotel after being released from the space dock. It also shows how the hotel would rotate about the long axis of the hub to produce modest levels of artificial gravity in the spokes. At about two revolutions per minute, a Mars gravity level is achieved at the ends of the spokes. This use of artificial gravity enables the spokes to be organized into floors (Element 5 in Fig. 13). Each spoke would contain 18 floors with 14 of these available for general use and the remaining 4 floors used for storage and equipment. The spokes would be 8.4 m (27.5 ft) in diameter. This would provide a useful floor area of approximately 42 m2 (450 ft2) per floor. The total available floor area in the baseline configuration would be 2,340 m2 (25,200 ft2). The 12-spoke configuration, having 192 floors total, would have 3 times this floor area—7,026 m2 (75,600 ft2) or about 23 m2 (250 ft2) per person.
An estimate can be made of the number of guests visiting the hotel each year. Assuming a 3:1 ratio of guests to staff, approximately 76 guests would be staying each night in the baseline configuration and 228 guests in the full configuration. With one third of the useful floors configured as guest cabins, two cabins to a floor, each cabin would have a useful area of approximately 21 m2 (225 ft2).* With an average stay of one week, approximately 4,000 guests and 12,000 guests would visit the 4- and 12-spoke hotels each year, respectively.
If each passenger spaceplane carries 10 guests, approximately 400 and 1,200 RLV flights would be required each year. With an additional 25% required for staff transport and resupply, the 4-spoke hotel would require about 10 flights per week and the 12-spoke hotel would require about 30 flights per week. If the RLVs could achieve a one-week turnaround time, and allowing for one in five RLVs being in depot for maintenance, 12 RLVs would be required to support the 4-spoke hotel and 36 RLVs for the 12-spoke hotel.†
At the $37M per flight cost discussed previously for first generation RLVs, the per passenger transportation cost would be approximately $3.7M. With this transportation cost structure, a sustainable space tourism or space business market may not be possible. However, if a second generation RLV could reduce this cost by a factor of 10 to $0.37M per passenger, as an example, then an initial market demand for the baseline hotel may develop and be sustainable. In such case, the annual transportation revenue for the baseline hotel would be $3.7M x 500 = $1.9B and the 12-spoke hotel would be $5.6B.‡ This improvement in transportation costs would also yield a savings of 90%—approximately $1B per year—in the transportation costs to support the LEO space logistics bases. Human space exploration missions would also realize a significant cost reduction.
While developing a conceptual design of a space hotel would appear premature at this early stage of considering the architecture of an initial space logistics infrastructure, several important conclusions emerge that indicate otherwise:
1) Careful selection of the initial space logistics architecture can also establish the industrial capability to build the first space hotels necessary to enable the expansion of human enterprises in space.
2) A commercially successful space hotel will require second generation RLVs to lower further the cost of transportation to orbit.
3) In order for these second generation RLVs to be ready when the first space hotel is completed, the technology research investment would need to begin concurrently with the start of the detailed design of the initial space logistics systems. Conversely, for private investment to seriously consider building the first hotels, significant science and technology progress in developing the second generation RLVs must be demonstrated by the time the initial hotel construction contracts are made.
4) The benefits of reduced space transportation costs will also substantially lower the cost of operation of the initial elements of the space logistics infrastructure, leading to a likely increase in demand for more in-space logistics services.
5) Space hotels and second-generation RLVs may become an important new aerospace product for the American aerospace industry, establishing American leadership in this new and growing field of human astronautical technologies.
6) It is not unrealistic to expect, with the building of an integrated space logistics infrastructure, that hundreds of people could be living and working in space by 2020, growing to thousands of people by 2040 with many of these living in the first permanent orbiting space settlements.
* A standard cabin on the new Queen Mary 2 cruise ship has an area of 18 m2 (194 ft2). A premium cabin has an area of 23 m2 (248 ft2).
† Launch sites for these RLVs would be distributed around the world. This would allow operations at the space hotel to run 24 hours per day since there is no day and night in LEO.
‡ This further reduction could come about through the introduction of a spiral version of the first-generation RLVs where improvements to the high maintenance cost subsystems, e.g., engines, could substantially reduce the recurring costs. Another approach would be development of entirely new RLV configurations—perhaps a single-stage configuration—that would also result in a substantial reduction in recurring costs per passenger through subsystem design improvements and the ability to carry more passengers per trip. A key issue in both approaches is the amortization of the development and production costs. High flight rates, probably dependent on space tourism, would be required to yield an overall transportation cost sufficiently low to enable profitable commercial operations.
This is from a 1970 brochure from NASA called Space Station: Key to the Future, as documented by David Portree. The station is cylindrical with a diameter of ten meters, and houses a crew of 12. The station is somewhat extravagant, down to the wood panelling on the crew quarters.
Back in late 1957, the United States was feeling very smug. They were the most powerful nation on Earth, had the biggest and the best of everything, and above all were the most technologically advanced. Their biggest rivals were the Soviet Union. But their technologists were a bunch of stupid farm boys who wouldn't recognize a scientific innovation if it flew straight up their behind. Life was good for the U.S.A.
The US was even ready to meet the challenge of the International Geophysical Year. The IGY officials had adopted a resolution for something straight out of science fiction: create something called an "artificial satellite" and launch it into something called an "orbit" in order to map Earth's surface duntDah DUUUHHHH! from Spaaaaaaace!. The US had been working with the Martin Company since 1955 on the Naval Research Laboratory's Vangard satellite. The US was looking forwards to yet again demonstrating the unstoppable advantage of good old US know-how.
Then one fine day the Soviets quietly told a few people to watch the skies that night. Oh, and tune your radio to 20 megacycles while you are at it.
On 4 October 1957 at 19:28:34 UTC, the Soviets launched the world's first artificial satellite into orbit, called Sputnik 1. No propaganda lie was this, you could see the blasted thing orbiting with a low powered telescope, and there was that accursed BEEP-BEEP-BEEP coming clearly at 20 megacycles. The Space Age had started.
The United States freaked out.
The reaction was a mix of stunned incredulity, incandescent rage, and hysterical panic. Incredulity that the "backwards" Soviets could beat the US at its own game. Rage at being demoted to "also ran" status in the race. And panic because it would be just a matter of time before those evil Soviets put nuclear warheads on their satellites. Yes, Sputnik was a miserable half meter sized ball that couldn't do more than make beep-beep noises. But the US couldn't even do that much.
Sputnik directly caused the US to create NASA. And ARPA (which later became DARPA). ARPA's mission statement was "See that Soviet Sputnik? DON'T LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN, EVER!" (although the actual command was worded something like "help the US regain its technological lead"). The National Science Foundation also got a $100 million dollar budget increase and was told to start cranking out as many new engineers as it could possibly make. Right Now.
Things got worse when the US tried to launch its answer to Sputnik. On December 6, 1957, Vanguard TV3 was launched from Cape Canaveral. The event was carried live on US TV, which in hindsight was a rather poor decision. Viewers across the nation witnessed Vanguard's engines igniting, the rocket's rise to an altitude of almost 1.2 meters, the fall back to the launch pad, and the spectacular fiery explosion.
The smoking remains of the Vanguard satellite rolled across the ground, pathetically still sending its radio beacon signal. In the radio shack, the crew was unaware of the explosion, and were troubled that they could no longer receive the signal. Somebody picked up the charred remains of Vanguard and walked into the shack. As he entered, the radio operators excitedly announced that they were suddenly picking up the signal loud and clear!
Meanwhile on Wall Street, they had to temporarily suspend trading in Martin Company stock as it plummeted in value. The news media was not kind, calling Vanguard uncharitable names such as "Flopnik", "Kaputnik", "Oopsnik", and "Stayputnik". To say this was an international humiliation was putting it mildly. A few days after the incident, a Soviet delegate to the United Nations inquired solicitously whether the United States was interested in receiving aid earmarked for "undeveloped countries”. Ouch.
Then in April 25, 1958, in the middle of all this gloom and doom, Dr. Krafft Ehricke goes to Washington. He was one of the genius scientists from Nazi Germany who was scooped up by Operation Paperclip. In 1958 he was working for Convair.
Part of Dr. Ehricke's genius was his practicality. He knew if you had to get something developed quickly, the design time had to be minimized. Indeed, you could cut the time drastically if you can find a way to modify some off-the-shelf technology instead of starting from scratch. As it happened, Convair had created the SM-65 Atlas rocket which was the US's first ICBM and the largest rocket it had at the time. Dr. Ehricke noticed that the Atlas could boost a small payload into orbit. In fact, it could boost itself into orbit.
What if you stop looking at the Atlas' giant fuel tanks as fuel tanks and instead saw them as a ready-made space station hull? Why, you would have the Soviets sputtering in rage as the unmanned Sputnik 1 and the dog-manned Sputnik 2 were savagely upstaged by the Man-manned US space station!
Dr. Ehricke's design was a four-man nuclear powered space station that could be built using existing Atlas rockets. As the cherry on top of the sundae, it could be spun for artificial gravity. It could be bulit in five years at a cost of about half a billion 1958 dollars.
The station was never built, which was a pity because it would have worked! Years later in 1973 Dr. Ehricke's concept was used for NASA's Skylab. It too was a space station build out of a spent upper stage. Technically Ehricke's design was a wet workshop while Skylab was a dry workshop, but the basic idea is there.
The Hawk plastic model company wasted no time making a model kit of Ehricke's space station. It was first issued in 1960, and later re-issued in 1968 (which was when I got my copy of the kit).
The Station is 32 meters long with a mass of 6.8 metric tons. It can house a four man crew. It orbits at an altitude of 640 kilometers. Power is from a SNAP-2 nuclear reactor with an output of 55 kilowatts. Each glider carries two men. The vernier rockets will spin up the station around the entry port spin axis at a rate of 2.5 times per minute, to provide artificial gravity of 0.1 to 0.15g. Pretty darn impressive for 1958. Actually it would be quite impressive today, the International Space Station has no artificial gravity nor nuclear power.
The nose end of the station is for the habitat module. Outside of the sanitary room on the tip of the nose is a condenser cooler for the water regeneration system and a waste disposal outlet (yes, when you flush the toilet you are spraying sewage into a wide arc like a water-sprinkler. Take that, Khrushchev!). Oxygen is from a tank in the rear end, but the habitat module has a small emergency oxygen tank.
Naturally there are some drawbacks to using an Atlas. One of them is the dimensions. While the Atlas is 22.8 meters long, it is only 3 meters in diameter. So the living spaces are going to be a bit cramped. Especially since the pointed nose section grows even narrower than 3 meters.
The rear end is to store heavy equipment. It would hold oxygen tanks, water supply, emergency power supply (batteries), vernier rocket propellant tanks (to start and stop the artificial gravity spin), tools, reserve equipment, and instrumentation.
The entrance is located near the midpoint, at the spin axis. It is surrounded by a basket-funnel to aid astronauts to enter and exit. It leads to the unpressurized interior. The habitat module in the nose has an airlock above the control room.
Construction of the station will take about one week. Once operational, the station will initially rotate crews back to Terra after every two weeks, later once a month. A cargo ship will deliver 3,600 kilograms of supplies once a year. A total of 13 to 20 launches a year would be required to maintain the station.
The station can be expanded with the upper stage tanks of cargo and passenger vessels. Small satellites can be added to the system — with or without rotation — for housing telescope and other instruments.
Space station functions:
- As a test bed for long-term evaluation of development of equipment and living conditions in advanced manned satellites, lunar and interplanetary spacecraft.
- To teach crews to live in space and to prepare for flights to other planets.
- To serve as a base for launching improved interplanetary research probes to Venus, Mars, and the outer solar system.
- As a base for weather observation (the transistor had just been invented) and to monitor terrestrial activities (i.e, spy on enemies of the US, like those vile Sputnik-launching Soviets)
- As a base for geophysical and astrophysical research.
- As a maintainance base for satellites in suitable orbits.
- As a base for assembly, testing, and launching of lunar reconnaissance vehicles.
Construction of the station should take about one week.
- An Atlas is boosted into a 640 kilometers high orbit, arriving with empty tanks. It will become the hull of the station.
- One personnel vehicle (carrying four man alpha crew and two gliders) and one cargo vehicle (carrying equipment for rear of station) are launched, and rendezvous with the empty Atlas.
- Using the gliders, the alpha crew moves the equipment from the cargo vehicle to the empty Atlas.
- The alpha crew installs in the Atlas emergency power (batteries), water, and oxgen supply systems.
- One personnel vehicle (carrying a four man beta crew and two gliders) and one cargo vehicle (carrying equipment for nose of station) are launched, and rendezvous with the Atlas.
- The alpha crew returns to Terra via their two gliders.
- Beta crew places rubber nylon balloon inside nose of station, and inflates it to create pressurized habitat module. The four decks are installed, with all the insulation, furnishings and equipment. Water recycling system installed in sanitary room. Food is stored and the water & air cycles are tested using emergency battery power.
- One personnel vehicle (carrying a four man gamma crew and two gliders) and one cargo vehicle (carrying SNAP-2 nuclear reactor, shadow shield, and heat radiator) are launched, and rendezvous with the Atlas.
- The beta crew returns to Terra via their two gliders.
- The gamma crew installs the nuclear reactor. Water and air cycles would be started using reactor power. Vernier rockets are fired to spin the station for artificial gravity.
- The station is now operational.
- Crews are rotated once a month.
This is another interesting design from Dr. Krafft Ehricke.
Astropolis was to be an orbital hotel and space resort, that is, yet another desperate attempt to monetize space/discover some MacGuffinite. The details can be found in Space Tourism by Krafft Ehricke (1967), collected in Commercial Utilization of Space, Volume 23 Advances in the Astronautical Sciences. It is available to patrons of the Aerospace Projects Review Patreon campaign.
The entire idea is based on the exceedingly optimistic assumption that boosting payload and passengers into LEO could be brought down to $10 US per pound ($22 per kilogram) in 1967 dollars (about $150/kg in 2015 dollars). By way of comparison NASA's space shuttle never got below $10,416/kg, and the Russian Proton-M is lucky to only cost $4,302/kg. So we still have some work to do in that department.
The primary attraction seems to be the variable gravity.
The station has a (residential) radius of about 122 meters, which means it can have one full gravity at the rim with a safe spin of only 2.7 revolutions per minute. Above 3 RPM the customers will start suffering from Coriolis nausea and Astropolis' Yelp score will fall off a cliff.
At the core, the yellow Zero-G Dynarium offers free-fall fun, with 3-D tennis, artificial flying wings, three-dimensional swimming pool and everything. The yellow Asteroid Room contains a simulated asteroid the customers can observe through windows or suit up and explore first hand. Both are about 61 meters in diameter.
The Mars Room, Mercury Room, Moon Room, and Titan Room are all set at distances from the spin axis such that their ground levels are under the same gravity as their namesake. Each is a flat plate covered in a hemispherical dome, with support equipment hidden under the plate. They contain carefully created simulations of the various planets with duplicated atmospheres and all the details. The domes are animated with projectors to create the illusion of the sky. Again customers can observe the rooms through windows, or don space suits for some real-life exploration.
The 0.35 g Dynarium and the Orbital Ballet Theater allows experiencing the fun to be had under one-third of a g. I'm sure the ballet will be amazing, with truly heroic leaps.
There are extensive space boat docks for touring the exterior of the station in little putt-putt spaceships. And for the stick-in-the-muds guests, there is a theater, beauty salon/barber shop, restaurant/ball-room, and a casino all at a conventional 1 g. And no doubt a tourist trap gift shop selling cheap crap at inflated prices.
Don't forget the incredible ever-changing view of Terra, the various photos taken from the International Space Station show the view is sufficiently awesome that it is probably worth the price of the trip all by itself. For maximum global sight-seeing, the hotel will probably be in a polar "ball-of-twine" orbit (the one used by military spy satellites) so every centimeter will be covered. These might be viewed by TV cameras instead of by direct vision windows, to compensate for the fact the station is spinning.
The guest quarters modules ("hotels") are cylinders with 9 meter inner diameter and about 48 meters tall. There are 13 floors, each floor a cylinder with a 9 meter diameter and 3.7 meters tall. 11 floors have four beds, 2 floors (uppermost and lowermost) have only two beds, for a total of 50 beds. Complete floors are rented as four-bed suites, other floors are divided in half to create a pair of two-bed hotel rooms. One floor has a area of about 64 square meters, and four-bed suite has a volume of about 235 cubic meters.
Naturally each floor has a lower gravity than the floor below it. The bottom floor will have 1 g, the top floor will have the same 0.35 g as the orbital ballet theater.
There are six hotel modules side-by-side in a "wing", and Astropolis has four wings. This is a total of 24 hotel modules, for a total of 1,200 beds. Reserving 100 beds for the station service personnel leaves 1,100 beds for guests.
The hotel could hold 1,100 guest at a time, for about 400,000 guest-days per year. Dr. Ehricke estimated a rent of $80 per guest-day with a profit of $5 (in 1967 dollars) or $5,500 profit per day when fully booked (about $39,000 per day in 2015 dollars). See the original report for a detailed break-down of the business expenses.
Nowadays such a resort would be a liability-lawsuit nightmare. It contains far to many ways that a clumsy or stupid guest could accidentally kill themselves. Space suits can malfunction, and the little space boats might accidentally ram the station or pass to close to the radioactive nuclear reactors. Guests will have to sign iron-clad release forms, and even then Astropolis will have trouble obtaining liability insurance.
This design was copied for the regrettably abysmal TV movie Earth II in 1971.
This clever design solves the problem of how to quickly assemble a wheel space station, with one tiny little drawback. You see, there is a reason that wheel space stations are shaped like, well, wheels and not like hexagons.
The amount of centrifugal gravity experienced is determined by the distance from the axis of rotation (the greater the distance, the stronger the gravity). So if you want the amount of gravity to be the same, the station has to be a circle.
Now, look at the image below. The segment labeled "SPACE STATION RIGID MODULE" is one of the hexagonal sides. The green lines lead to the axis of rotation (i.e., that is the direction of "up". Note the little dark men figures, they feel like they are standing upright). And the red lines are lines of equal gravity. You will note that they do not align with the module.
In the module, centrifugal gravity will be weakest at the center of the module, and strongest at the ends where it joins with the neighbor modules. Even though the module is straight, the gravity will feel like it is a hill. If you place a marble on the deck in the center, it will roll "downhill" to one of the edges.
As you see, the designers tried to compensate for this by angling the decks, but it really doesn't work very well. They also put in secondary floors where the angle got too steep. The metric was to try and keep the variation in gravity across one module to within 0.02-g.
The problem this design was intended to solve was that of a lack of experience in free-fall construction. In the 1960's Langley Research Center concluded that assembling a space station out of component parts in orbit would not be practical until after 1975 or so. You need to gain expertise in the orbital rendezvous of many seperatly launched sections, gain skills in making mechanical, fluid, and electrical connections in free fall, and other problems. This space station was to do an end-run around the problems. No need to rendezvous or making connections if the thing is launched as one part. The only problem is figuring out how to fold the station up so it will fit in the rocket, and how it transforms into the full station.
Historically, NASA figured out how to make mechanical, fluid, and electrical connections in free fall by 1998 at the latest. The International Space Station was indeed assembled in orbit out of component parts launched separately.
The station was 150 feet across the hexagonal corners, central hub 12.8 feet in diameter and 29 feet high. When folded for launch it was 33 feet in diameter and 103 feet high (not counting the Apollo spacecraft on top. Total mass (including the Apollo) was 170,300 pounds. The rim modules were cylinders 10 feet in diameter and 75 feet long. They are hinged where they connect. When operational, the station would rotate at 3 rpm to generate 0.2-g artificial gravity at the rim. The spokes were 5 feet in diameter and 48 feet long. It would hold 21 crew members.
Somewhat more elaborate in conception is the 94 ft wheel-shaped satellite prepared by two design engineers of the Lockheed Missile Division. This celestial laboratory for a crew of 10 weighs 400 tons, and is intended to orbit at a height of 500 miles. Each pre-fabricated section is 10 ft in diameter and 20 ft long, fitted with airlocks, and weighs 10 tons delivered into orbit. Powerful 3-man "astro-tugs" would round up the orbiting packages and couple them up. The entire operation should not take more than a month. The whole design has been investigated in exceptional detail, and is complete with nuclear power reactor and propulsion unit for changing orbit, astronomical telescopes, computer room, space-medical laboratory, airlocks for access, etc. All gravitational worries would be relieved by rotating the vehicle about its hub, which would remain stationary for observational purposes.
The Lockheed space station made an apperance on the 1959 TV show Men into Space. I have not seen this show, but from what I've read it was astonishingly scientifically accurate. Certainly more accurate than most anything from TV or movies in the last couple of decades. Thanks to Drake Grey for bringing this to my attention.
This is from those innocent days before the discovery of nuclear power. The station uses solar power in the form of mercury boilers, since these were also the days before the discovery of the photoelectric effect.
Station desgined by R.A.Smith and H.E.Ross (circa 1940). Again, the station is powered by mercury boilers. The telescope uses a coelostat to counteract the spin of the station. The antenna support arm is de-spun to allow a spacecraft to dock, then is spun up to allow the air-lock module to mate with the station habitat module.
The space shuttle external tank (ET) is 46.9 meters long, 8.4 meters in diameter. It has a dry mass of 26,500 kilograms. It has two internal tanks, one for liquid hydrogen and one for liquid oxygen. The LH2 tank has an internal volume of 1497 cubic meters, the LOX tank has a volume of 553 cubic meters. Total volume of 2,050 cubic meters.
Once the shuttle was 97% of the way to LEO, it does an OMS burn in order to ditch the external tank into the Indian ocean.
According to NASA the main reason they never boosted shuttle external tanks into orbit was that this would decrease the payload capacity. Even when you figure the shuttle will no longer have to perform the OMS burn to ditch the tank into the ocean. More fuel will be used overall.
NASA says the secondary reason is that the tank is totally coated with foam insulation. In LEO this will fall off in huge massive chunks creating a major space debris problem. An expensive total redesign could fix this (putting the foam inside the shell), but this too would probably reduce the payload capacity. Remember that NASA stopped painting the tanks after the second shuttle mission in order to save on mass.
NASA says the third reason is nobody wanted the tanks in orbit.
Apparently the artist who did the book cover had seen this old Soviet space station design. I have not been able to discover any details about the station, except that the model is apparently hanging in some Russian museum.