Larger than the planet
Mercury, Titan appeared to the Voyager probes
in the 1980s as a mysterious yellow-orange globe, its
surface hidden by its soupy methane atmosphere [see
image, "Smoggy
Sphere"]. Cassini is equipped to peer
through those clouds with special camera filters and
radar, but really getting up close and personal with
this enigmatic world is the job of ESA's Huygens.
Launched from Cassini, Huygens will soon slam into
Titan's atmosphere at 21 000 kilometers per hour and
begin a one-way, two-and-a-half hour descent to the
surface, slowed by parachutes. The lander is fitted with
cameras pointing down and sideways, instruments designed
to unlock the atmosphere's chemical secrets, and a
microphone to pick up wind sounds. Investigators have
speculated there might be seas of liquid methane and
ethane on Titan, so Huygens has been designed to float.
Although its batteries will be nearly exhausted by the
time it finally reaches the surface, researchers hope it
will be able to make a few measurements of the physical
composition of the landing site [see illustrations,
"Titan's Tiny
Visitor"] and "Dicey Descent"].
Scientists believe the information gathered during
the descent will open not only a window onto a
mysterious world at the far end of the solar system but
one onto the past as well, since Titan's atmosphere is
believed to be similar to that of the primordial Earth.
Getting Huygens's once-in-a-lifetime readings and
observations back to Earth is a two-stage process.
Huygens is too small to be equipped with a radio
transmitter powerful enough to reach Earth, so instead a
receiver onboard Cassini will pick up Huygens's
transmissions. With its powerful 4-meter main antenna,
Cassini will then relay the data back to a small army of
researchers, some of whom have been waiting decades for
the insights they hope Huygens will provide.
When the Cassini-Huygens
mission blasted off from Cape Canaveral
in October 1997, no one suspected that a critical design
flaw was lurking deep within the telemetry system
onboard Cassini that was dedicated to harvesting
Huygens's broadcast. Uncorrected, the flaw meant the
data flowing from the hardy lander was in danger of
being hopelessly scrambled, its seven-year odyssey
across the solar system in vain.
"We have a technical term for what went wrong here,"
one of Huygens's principal investigators, John Zarnecki
of Britain's Open University, would later explain to
reporters: "It's called a cock-up."
But back in 1998, as Cassini was swinging past Venus
and the Earth to build up speed for its run out to
Saturn, Zarnecki and the other scientists and engineers
at ESA and NASA were still blissfully unaware of any
problem.
In fact, everything was working fine. The mission
builders felt confident in their work: both the Cassini
orbiter and the Huygens lander had been extensively
tested on the ground, both separately and together.
However, a proposal for a so-called full-up
high-fidelity test of the radio link between the probes
(where every system is subjected to a simulation of the
exact signals and conditions it will experience during
flight) had been rejected because it would have required
disassembly of some of the communications components.