So, what is he putting up with? Eight months of grueling training at Moscow’s legendary Center for Cosmonaut Training. And the scorn of his own government, worried he will be less like Jackie Robinson than Sandy Pittman, the socialite who bought her way up the cliffs of Mount Everest, with unhappy results. But the cosmonaut center points to Tito’s background: before tackling Wall Street, he was a NASA engineer who designed the flight trajectories for the Mariner missions to Mars. Even Rep. Ralph Hall (Texas Democrat), former head of the Space Subcommittee, calls him “the ideal person” to launch the era of space tourism.
Last week Tito accompanied his crew to Houston for a week of cross-training on the American sections of the space station. They were expected. So the Russians seemed surprised when Bob Cabana, a stern Marine colonel and veteran space traveler, handed Tito the bad news. “We do not think there is adequate time to train you for an April flight,” he said.
NASA reserves the right to approve Russian crews bound for the station, but Russia, clinging to the mantle of space superiority despite being penniless, rejects this standard. Talgat Musabayev, the famed Russian commander, replied through a translator: “Dennis Tito has already undergone training. And he has shown good results. And the leadership has decided that our crew must do training together.”
“In that case, we will not be able to begin training,” Cabana said, “because we are not willing to train with Dennis Tito.”
Musabayev countered that Tito’s 700 hours in Cosmonaut Ed are more than sufficient, given his nonexistent flight duties. “Dennis Tito is a passenger,” he said. Cabana worked his molars back and forth tensely. He responded in the language of an international standoff. “There is nothing to discuss–we have given you our position.”
NASA showed the Russians the door, the most public breach in space relations since their celebrated Handshake in Space in 1975. Both sides have retrenched in the rhetoric-filled days since then, with the Russians promising to fly Tito no matter what and NASA refusing to promise it’ll open the hatch. Your average wealthy person might be wary of a galactic feud, but not Tito. As the controversy swirled around him, Tito joined his Russian crew members for lunch at a restaurant on the Texas gulf coast. “To our mission,” declared Musabayev, raising a glass of fine Sonoma Valley Chardonnay, the most expensive ($75 a bottle) on the menu. Tito beamed. “We’re going to make history,” Tito said. And now Musabayev beamed. “History–I don’t know,” he said. “But we need the money.” They emptied their glasses. And Tito picked up the check.
