We start cutting quickly back and forth between 2609 and 2036, with September explaining that early in the boy's maturation, the scientists in charge of reproduction realized that the kid's brain had developed differently from other offspring, and the scientist telling Windmark that the boy's maturation was halted. "To them, he was an anomaly, a defect." September, the kid's sitting right there!
At this point I start to wonder about Windmark's disgust when he discovered the Observer bodies in the black lab, because of a) the emotionlessness of the Observers and b) the fact that they THEMSELVES experiment on Observers.
Anyway, Windmark asks the scientist whose genetic material was used to create this progeny. It's not really any mystery to anyone watching, I can't imagine. "I had observed, in your time, how fathers cared for their sons and protected them," says September. Really? In our time, dads spending time with their kids is still referred to as "babysitting" by way too many people. Nevertheless, September continues, "It stirred something in me that I could not ignore." He took the boy away and hid him in the past, where he would be safe.
Olivia and the Bishops are starting to figure it out. "He's your son?" asks Walter. September, fighting back tears -- super-cool to see this actor change it up like this -- nods.
In the future, Windmark is reporting back to the commander that September was one of the "original twelve" -- I imagine that accounts for being named after months of the year -- science team that traveled back in time to observe "primitive humanity," and was banished for sympathizing with the same fugitives that Windmark is tracking and are in possession of the anomaly.
The commander asks why he would go to such great lengths to protect a genetic defect. Windmark doesn't know, but he's asking for a "protocol suspension" to travel back to a moment when he can eradicate the resistors. The commander says, "No. I've seen Terminator and Terminator 2 and that never works." He says they're not prepared to deal with a "readjustment of probabilities."
Looks like the Observers haven't completely eradicated disappointment, judging from Windmark's slight reaction, and the commander notes that the resistors seem to disquiet him. "The fugitives are inconsequential. He poses minimal risk. We chose this time in history for a reason -- a 99.9999 per cent probability that we will succeed," says the commander. Windmark counters by pointing out that the boy had a 0.0001 per cent chance of surviving, yet he did," he says. Then, if I remember probability correctly, the probability that both the boy will survive and the Observers won't succeed is 0.00000001 per cent, which are PRETTY DAMN GOOD ODDS even for a by-the-book supervisor like the commander apparently is. He phrases it a different way: "Is there something wrong with you?" he asks Windmark, emotionlessly. Ha! Windmark considers the question, then confesses to experiencing something he doesn't understand: "The idea of ending their existence consumes me," he says. The commander is, shall we say, unsympathetic. "They are insignificant. So no," he says. Windmark stares at him, and suddenly I realize that Windmark is the 2609 Observer version of the cinematic trope I hold very dear: The loose-cannon cop who plays by his own rules!