Two cosmonauts stepped off a bus at the Baikonur Cosmodrome — the Soviet Cape Canaveral — ready to ride a 10-story Soyuz rocket into orbit. This launch complex in the heart of Kazakhstan had sent the first satellite, animal and human (Sputnik, Laika and Yuri Gagarin) into space. It was the spring of 1991, three decades after Gagarin’s historic flight, and Sergei Krikalev and Anatoly Artsebarsky were there to follow in his footsteps. But first, they kept up the tradition Gagarin had started back in 1961. The men marched to the right rear tire of the bus, unzipped their spacesuits and started urinating. Then, they headed for the launch pad.
To the world, space travel had become routine. American astronauts had flown dozens of space shuttle missions, and Soviet cosmonauts were building ever more complex space stations, culminating with Mir, Artsebarsky and Krikalev’s destination. Few eyes glanced skyward that day, nor would they in the months ahead — events on Earth would soon distract the world and set a new course for manned spaceflight that continues today.
After blasting off from Baikonur, Krikalev wouldn’t inhale earthly air for 312 days. In that time, the soft-spoken cosmonaut would watch his country crumble from 200 miles up. Presidents would change. His hometown of Leningrad would become St. Petersburg. And one communist superpower would splinter into 15 nations. By the time he returned, Krikalev would be, in essence, the last remaining citizen of the once-mighty Soviet Union.
But out of the chaos, NASA’s current trajectory also emerged. After the USSR collapsed, American politicians began working with Russia, hoping to take astronauts back into orbit with a space station, and eventually on to the moon and Mars. The international plan put a cosmonaut (Krikalev) on the space shuttle and an astronaut on Mir — and ultimately led to one of the highest-profile international collaborations of all time: the International Space Station (ISS).
