 Why does Click suspect that the meteor strike wasn’t accidental?
For Click and Irish were marooned on the pirate's asteroid—their only weapons a single gun and a news-reel camera. Click Hathaway felt the ship move under him like a sensitive animal's skin. It made a spiked fist and knocked the rear-jets flat, and the ship spun like a cosmic merry-go-round. Hathaway only knew he was picked up and hurled against a lever-bank, and that Marnagan wasn't long in following, swearing loud words. A sweeter one still of Marnagan beating hell out of the controls and keeping his words to himself until just now. "Is this what ?" yelled Marnagan inside his helmet. Hathaway felt himself grabbed; he and Marnagan rattled around—human dice in a croupier's cup. They stood in the middle of a pocked, time-eroded meteor plain that stretched off, dipping down into silent indigo and a rash of stars. Upon the sharp meteoric rocks Hathaway saw the tangled insides of the radio, the food supply mashed and scattered. Space-meteors are never hot and glowing. "It's not proof we need now, Click. Oh, God, this would make great news-release stuff if we ever get back to Earth. After that—right or wrong—you'll be Cosmic Films prettiest unmoving, unbreathin' genius. "Gravity should not act this way, Click." Click's voice gasped it out, as Marnagan squeezed his two-hundred-fifty pounds beside him. Instinctively, Hathaway added, "Asteroid monsters!
 The meteor was unusually hot and glowing.
 The meteor was quiet and stealthy.  Gunther had thrown meteors before.  The meteor was unusually hot and glowing.  The gravity threw them out of orbit.