You got to contribute to a vision like that. You are contributing to the future of science.
For the first time since Apollo 17 in 1972, humanity sent a crewed mission beyond Earth orbit — and among the quiet architects of that journey was Singaporean engineer Lalita Devi Arjun Singh, working from a Texas office fifteen minutes from her home. Through eighteen months of meticulous adaptation, she and her team at Leidos built tools to monitor astronaut health and sustain life in contingency, bridging the vast distance between a mother's daily routine and the edge of the known world. Her work on Artemis II is not merely a technical achievement but a reminder that humanity's reach into the cosmos is assembled from countless small, careful acts of dedication.
- Humanity's first crewed journey beyond Earth orbit in over fifty years demanded that every life-sustaining detail — down to how saliva dries in microgravity — be solved from scratch.
- Designing a dry saliva collection kit for space meant rethinking the obvious: no sharp edges for fragile skin, Velcro to prevent floating components, and eighteen months of adaptation before a single sample could be collected.
- Emergency nutrition pouches addressed a grimmer urgency — the moment a spacecraft leak or meteoroid strike forces astronauts into suits, cutting off all normal means of eating or drinking.
- The six saliva samples collected during Artemis II's ten-day mission are now being analyzed on Earth, feeding a growing body of knowledge meant to protect astronauts on future journeys lasting months or years.
- With a blood collection kit for Artemis III already underway, Lalita's work is quietly threading together NASA's long arc from lunar orbit to sustained Moon presence and, eventually, Mars.
On April 1, 2026, four astronauts departed for the moon aboard NASA's Artemis II — humanity's first crewed journey beyond Earth orbit since Apollo 17 in 1972. Among the thousands who made it possible was Lalita Devi Arjun Singh, a Singaporean project manager at Leidos, working in Texas on equipment designed to keep the crew alive and healthy across ten days in deep space.
Lalita co-led a five-person team developing a dry saliva collection kit — a task that sounds simple until you account for microgravity. Samples float. Skin grows delicate in weightlessness. Sharp edges become hazards. The team spent eighteen months solving each problem: how saliva dries without gravity, how to secure components with Velcro, how to preserve biological markers for later analysis. The astronauts used the kit six times during the mission, generating data on stress, inflammation, immune function, and viral activity that will inform how to protect crews on far longer journeys to the Moon and Mars.
A year earlier, Lalita's team had also developed emergency nutrition pouches — chocolate and vanilla powder designed for moments when pressure drops or micro-meteoroid strikes force astronauts into suits, making normal eating impossible. Connected to the spacecraft's water system, the pouches deliver critical sustenance when every second matters.
Her path to this work was anything but direct. Trained in chemical engineering and biomedical science across Singapore and Australia, she once taught live science demonstrations to schoolchildren. She moved to the United States in 2009, earned a master's in biology in Texas, and studied how HIV affects the brain — before a punishing commute and the pull of family life led her to Leidos, just fifteen minutes from home. She did not expect it would lead to the moon.
She watched the Artemis II launch from her office with her son beside her. Nine days later, she celebrated the splashdown with her family at the Houston Space Center. Her children now understand what she does — she brings home urine collection bags to show them how astronauts manage basic biology in space, and they are delighted.
Her next project is a blood collection kit for Artemis III. Looking ahead at NASA's vision of a sustained lunar presence and eventual human missions to Mars, she reflects simply: contributing something you built to a mission like this, and watching it return — that itself is the wonder. To young Singaporeans weighing careers abroad, her advice is equally plain: take the chance.
On April 1, 2026, four astronauts lifted off toward the moon aboard NASA's Artemis II, marking humanity's first crewed journey beyond Earth orbit in more than fifty years. Since Apollo 17 in 1972, every human spaceflight had stayed within Earth's immediate vicinity—the International Space Station, low orbital missions, nothing farther. This mission was different. And among the thousands of people who made it possible was a Singaporean engineer named Lalita Devi Arjun Singh, working quietly in Texas on equipment that would help keep those astronauts alive and healthy during their ten-day voyage.
Lalita, a project manager at Leidos, a U.S. science and technology firm, co-led a five-person team tasked with developing a dry saliva collection kit. The work sounds straightforward until you remember that nothing is straightforward in space. On Earth, you collect a sample and set it down. In microgravity, everything floats. The team had to design a kit with no sharp edges—astronauts' skin becomes more delicate after prolonged weightlessness, and in the tight quarters of a spacecraft, a sample could easily be bumped and torn. They had to figure out how long saliva would take to dry in the absence of gravity, how to attach components with Velcro so nothing drifted away, and how to preserve the biological markers that would later tell scientists how the crew's bodies responded to the mission. The kit took eighteen months to adapt for space. During Artemis II, the astronauts used it six times, collecting samples that would be analyzed back on Earth for stress, inflammation, immune function, and viral activity.
"This helps scientists understand how the crew's bodies react differently during space travel when experiencing microgravity in a confined space, and to develop countermeasures to protect astronauts' health and prevent illness for future long missions to the moon, Mars and beyond," Lalita explained. The data gathered would inform how to keep humans safe on journeys that last not ten days but months or years.
In 2024, Lalita's team had also developed emergency nutrition pouches containing chocolate and vanilla powder. These were designed for contingency situations—sudden pressure drops caused by spacecraft leaks, micro-meteoroid strikes, or equipment failure. When such an event occurs, astronauts must suit up immediately to protect themselves, and normal eating becomes impossible. The pouches come with an adaptor that connects to the spacecraft's water dispensing system, allowing the crew to mix a nutritional beverage that provides critical sustenance when every second counts.
Lalita's path to this work was unconventional. She holds a diploma in chemical engineering from Ngee Ann Polytechnic in Singapore and a bachelor's degree in biomedical science from the University of Queensland in Australia. She spent a year as an educator at the Science Centre Singapore, doing live demonstrations for students. In 2009, she moved to the United States to be with her husband, a chemical engineer pursuing his master's degree. She earned her own master's in biology from Lamar University in Texas and worked as a research associate at the University of Texas Medical Branch, studying how HIV affects the brain. But in 2021, wanting more time with her two children—now aged seven and thirteen—she began looking for work closer to home. An hour's commute became untenable. Leidos, fifteen minutes away, offered the chance to stay in the field while reclaiming her life. She did not expect it would lead to the moon.
On April 1, she watched the Artemis II launch from her office with her son beside her. Nine days later, on April 10, she attended a private splashdown party at the Houston Space Center with her family, celebrating with the hundreds of employees and contractors who had made the mission possible. Her children understand what their mother does now. She brings home urine collection bags and shows them how astronauts manage basic biology in weightlessness. They are thrilled.
Her next project is a blood collection kit for Artemis III. NASA's vision extends beyond the moon—the agency aims to establish a sustained human presence there, supported by rovers, with the long-term goal of sending humans to Mars. Each mission requires thousands of adapted items, each one tested and refined by people like Lalita. She reflects on the strangeness and privilege of the work: "Sending a piece of something you developed to the moon and seeing it come back—that itself is a wow factor because you got to contribute to a vision like that. You are contributing to the future of science." To young Singaporeans considering careers abroad, she offers this: take the chance. The experiences will challenge you and shape who you become.
Notable Quotes
This helps scientists understand how the crew's bodies react differently during space travel when experiencing microgravity in a confined space, and to develop countermeasures to protect astronauts' health and prevent illness for future long missions to the moon, Mars and beyond.— Lalita Devi Arjun Singh, on the purpose of the saliva collection kit
If you are given a chance to work or study out of Singapore, take that as an opportunity to expand your horizons. The experiences that you get outside will challenge your comfort zone and shape you.— Lalita Devi Arjun Singh, advice to young Singaporeans
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What made you decide to focus on health monitoring specifically, rather than, say, propulsion systems or navigation?
I think it came naturally from my background in biomedical science and my research on HIV. I understood how the body works at a cellular level. When Leidos needed someone to adapt existing saliva collection technology for space, that intersection of biology and engineering felt like home.
The saliva kit took eighteen months. What was the hardest part of that adaptation?
Understanding how fluids behave differently in microgravity. On Earth, gravity does so much work for you without you thinking about it. In space, you have to design for the absence of that. We had to test how long samples would dry, whether they'd degrade, how to keep them stable for the journey back.
You mentioned astronauts' skin becomes more delicate in space. Did that discovery change how you approached the design?
Absolutely. We removed any sharp edges, made sure nothing could puncture or tear. It sounds simple, but it meant rethinking every component. You're designing for a human body that's already stressed and vulnerable.
Your children know what you do now. Do they understand the scale of it?
My seven-year-old understands that mommy sends things to the moon. My thirteen-year-old grasps more of the science. But honestly, I think they just know it's important to me, and that matters more than whether they fully comprehend the mission architecture.
What does it feel like to watch something you built come back from the moon?
It's surreal. You spend eighteen months solving problems in a lab, and then you see it on the news, and you know it's orbiting the moon with four human beings inside. That's not something you ever get used to.