Interlude: Taking Wing
Zhukovski Flight Research Institute, May 1983
Igor Volk, Commander of the Departmental Training Complex for Cosmonaut-Testers, eased the throttle forward a fraction and was rewarded with an increased whine from four Lyulka AL-31F turbofan engines. Outside the small cockpit windows, the concrete taxiway began to roll past as Volk steered his vehicle out towards the end of the main runway at Zhukovski’s Flight Research Institute.
In the right-hand seat, Konstantin Plushenko monitored the vehicle, but kept his hands clear of the controls. Plushenko had been Volk’s co-pilot for all five ground runs over the past year, but this was the big one. Together, they had pushed their experimental aircraft all the way to take-off speed, but not beyond. Today they would finally take the next step into the sky.
The weather at Zhukovski was pleasantly mild and clear on this May morning, with only a gentle westerly breeze. Sunlight reflected from the dummy black and white tiles glued to the airframe of the euphemistically-named “Big Transport Airplane” (or “The Flying Pencil” as it was called by some of its less reverential pilots), as Volk turned the aircraft to face down the runway centreline.
“PULE, this is Orel,” Volk spoke into his radio headset. “We are ready for the final checks.”
“We hear you, Orel,” came the response from the Flight Experiment Control Post. “Confirm engine temperature and hydraulic pressure readings.”
As Volk and Plushenko went over the technical readings with the engineers, a pair of MiG-25 fighters pushed past and screamed down the runway ahead of them. These were the two chase planes for today’s flight. With their escorts in the air, PULE confirmed that all systems were within specification. With all engines in take-off mode and the wings deployed to their maximum span, Volk disengaged the wheel brakes and pushed the throttles forward.
Slowly, the long, slender aircraft began to roll down the runway, steady and easily controllable as it picked up speed. As the ship hit the designated speed, Volk pulled back on his stick. Instantly the plane responded, lifting its nose and rising into the air, exactly as planned.
“I’m pulling up the landing gear,” reported Plushenko as Volk reduced the deflection to match the planned climb rate. “Engines two and three are approaching their pre-set limits.”
“Do not exceed,” Volk warned, but Plushenko was already reporting: “The temperature is now constant.”
“Wheels up.”
As they completed their initial climb, Volk throttled back power to the aircraft’s two auxiliary engines, then ordered Plushenko “Shut down engines two and four.” The co-pilot threw the switches to cut the flow of fuel to the jets, leaving them with just the two deployable engines planned for the operational vehicle.
A new voice now came over the radio, “You’re right on schedule.” Volk looked out of the window to see the pilot of one of the escorting MiG-25s giving a thumbs-up signal.
Volk switched his radio to transmit. “We are about to start the test programme,” he informed the fighter. “Please stand clear.”
“Copy, Orel,” the pilot replied, and the MiG peeled away.
With the way now clear, Volk firmly grasped the steering yolk and pushed the ungainly aircraft into a gentle bank to the right. After passing 30 degrees, he reversed the turn, before moving on to a series of more aggressive climbs, dives and turns. “He handles like an empty transport,” Pushenko noted as Volk completed the manoeuvres.
With their main objectives met, Volk turned back towards the airfield, put the engines in idle, and activated the automatic control unit. Immediately, the aircraft dipped into a steep descent.
“He is perhaps a little too eager to reach the ground!” Pushenko noted.
Volk remained calm, checking the instruments. “Speed and rate of descent are per programme,” he confirmed. He did, however, keep a firm grip on the controls, ready to take over at a moment’s notice.
The automated systems knew what they were doing, and soon began to level off and slow as the plane reached its planned glideslope. The landing gear deployed automatically as Pushenko called out their altitude: “200 metres… 100 metres… fifty…”.
“Let’s go up again”, Volk decided. Switching off the automatic control unit, he pushed the throttle forward, as Pushenko closed the air brake and turned off landing mode.
After one more gentle loop around the airfield, Volk steered the ship back to its entry point and reactivated the automatic controls. Once again, the computer system brought them down on a textbook approach.
“Altitude ten metres,” Plushenko called. “Five… three, two, one metre… contact! Drag chute deployed.”
Still under automatic control, the aircraft rolled out along the runway to a stop.
“Mission accomplished,” Volk announced, as they began their taxi to the parking zone. “I can’t wait to take him into space…”